Earthquake in San Francisco
by kaleen1212
Summary: After a major earthquake in San Francisco, Ironside finds himself trapped in a high rise with an excon who is trying to kill him.
1. Chapter 1

Earthquake in San Francisco

Chapter 1

1

Chief Robert T. Ironside watched as his lawyer brother and his secretary went through security. They were headed home. Perry Mason came to San Francisco initially to defend Ironside on an Internal Affairs Investigation. But, when Howard Jergens, the man behind a sleazy online gossip site was murdered, Ironside convinced Perry to defend Alexandra Hughes. The famous lawyer from Atlanta, Georgia, Ben Matlock was brought in to take over the detective's case. In the end, Ironside was cleared and the real killer of Howard Jergens was exposed.

It seemed he and Perry only saw each other when there was a murder to solve. Even if they were able to take a vacation together, somebody always fell prey to murder and their vacation always ended up as another case to solve.

Robert Ironside turned to his aide and friend. "Let's go, Mark. There's no sense in hanging around this airport."

Mark Sanger stepped in behind the chief's wheelchair and began pushing him toward the exit into the parking garage. When they arrived back at the van, Mark pushed the button. The familiar whine of the lift sounded, the door opened, and the lift lowered to the ground. Ironside turned his chair and backed onto it as Mark again pushed the button, lifting the detective into the air. Sanger waited until his boss was in the van before pushing the button to return the lift inside the van to its resting position. Mark walked around the vehicle and opened the driver's door. After slipping behind the wheel, he turned and asked his boss, "Where to, the office?"

"Do you have a better place in mind, Mister Sanger?" the chief growled.

"I could think of a lot of places we could go, Chief, but the office it is." Mark turned around, started the van, and put it in gear. He pulled the vehicle out of its parking spot and headed out of the garage. He remained quiet as Chief Ironside was displaying a moodiness that appeared when he had something on his mind. Mark had no idea what it was and wouldn't ask. Robert Ironside wouldn't say anything until he was ready. Questioning him would be a waste of time. To get the chief to open up before he was ready was equal to trying to move a mountain.

The ride back to the office was completed in silence. Ironside didn't say a word and Mark chose to respect his silence. They arrived at the police garage. Sanger pulled in and drove the van down to the reserved spot where the chief's van was always parked. His boss was in the lift and riding it down to the police garage pavement before Mark could even get out of the van. He met the detective on the other side and began wheeling him to the elevator, which would take both of them to the top floor where Ironside's office was located.

Mark pushed the former Chief of Detectives out of the elevator as soon as the doors open. Turning the chair to the left, the young man braced himself and pushed his boss up the ramp to the office that served as Ironside's home, and Mark's as well. Sanger reached forward and opened the door. Ironside wheeled into the office and down the ramp. Eve was working at the chief's desk and Ed was seated at the main table.

The big man most peopled called the "Ironman on Wheels" guided his chair over to the table. Ed looked up at the boss. "I take it Perry and Della got off on time?"

"You take it right," Ironside said. He put his elbow on the table and leaned his chin on his raised thumb.

Eve joined them. She sat down and studied the chief. Something was on his mind. She had no idea what it was as he never gave them any indication, yet she could tell he was deep in thought about something. She decided to take the direct approach. "Chief, what's wrong?"

Ironside looked up at his policewoman. "What makes you think there's something wrong?"

"Well, for starters, you've been quiet all day," Eve said.

"All day?" The detective looked at his watch. "It's just coming up on twelve o'clock," he said sarcastically.

"Alright, all morning then," Eve remarked, refraining from rolling her eyes. She had worked with Ironside for quite a while, so she had become accustomed to his sarcasm. She waited, but Robert Ironside just sat there.

"Chief?" Ed said.

Looking over at his sergeant, he lowered his eyebrows. "I've known Patrick Simpson for more than twenty years. He was a good mayor and an excellent administrator. I can't understand what possessed him to embezzle money from the city and then murder Howard Jergens."

Eve now understood his mood. Patrick Simpson had been the chief's friend for many years. Most of the time he stood by Ironside and gave the detective free rein in solving whatever emerged as the latest crisis. He'd considered Simpson a friend. Jergens's murderer was a mystery until they'd discovered the man behind the embezzlement was Mayor Simpson.

"He was heavily in debt, Chief," Ed said.

"I know that," Ironside said. "With all the people Dennis and I know, we could've gotten him help with that. Why resort to embezzlement and murder?"

"Some people feel the despair," Mark said. "They feel like the world is closing in on them. It can affect your thinking. Maybe he was just too proud to ask for help."

"He'll spend the rest of his life in prison for what he's done, Mark. Patrick wasn't someone who lived on the street. He had it all. He was a good mayor other than stealing from the city. He could've had a pretty good political career. He threw it all away for embezzling funds to cover the valuables he was stealing. It doesn't matter that he was returning the money when they were sold. It is still embezzlement"

"We'll never know what he was thinking, Chief," Eve said, trying to soothe him. His feelings were hurt by the fact that Patrick Simpson was willing to end his career in disgrace by framing him in the original theft of the Tiger, although she knew he'd never admit it. He was always affected when a friend, close or otherwise, ended up behind bars for committing a crime.

"I should've seen the signs," Ironside said.

"Chief, Mayor Simpson was even closer to Commissioner Randall and even he didn't see the signs. He was as shocked as the rest of us when the truth came out about the mayor," Ed pointed out.

Before Ironside could reply, Ed's cellphone rang. He allowed it to ring until Ironside barked, "Are you going to answer that or not?"

Ed reached into his suit coat pocket and pulled the cell phone out. "Sergeant Brown."

"Ed, is that you? I wasn't sure you'd have the same number."

Brown was floored. He had never expected to hear from Vivian Page again. Yet, there wasn't any doubt it was her voice on the other end of the phone. "Yes." He turned to see the chief, Eve and Mark staring at him. Ed stood up and headed for the door. "This is personal. I'll be right back." Without waiting for his boss to object, his long legs took him up the ramp and out of the office.

"Vivian?" Ed said.

"Yes, Ed, it's me. I wasn't going to make this call," she said and then became silent.

"Then why did you?"

"I miss you. I just miss you so badly, I don't know what to do. You started something, Ed Brown, and now I just can't get you out of my system."

"I wasn't the one who left, Vivian," Ed reminded her.

"I know that. I just didn't want a movie career. I guess I knew it as soon as we started filming that picture. My place is in the theater not on the silver screen," Vivian said.

"Viv, why are you calling me now?" Ed asked her. The pain of losing her came back in a flood of emotions. It tore through him like a sharp knife cutting a piece of meat. The sergeant was reminded of their short affair when Vivian Page came to San Francisco to promote her new movie . . . her first movie. Ed had been assigned to protect her when a key was slipped into her pocket that represented a lot of money.

Vivian Page took to Ed immediately. It could've been a fairy tale romance except for one thing . . . Ed was a police officer. Vivian didn't think much of the police. She didn't like his job or the fact that he carried a gun. When she ultimately decided she wanted to return to New York, she hadn't asked him to go with her. Vivian knew he loved his job and the city of San Francisco. Ed Brown would have been miserable in New York City, at least that's what she convinced herself. The actress thought she'd forget him and life would go on. There would be another man down the road. In fact, there had been many. They flocked to her like birds flocked to someone feeding them in a park. Yet, every time she tried to start a new relationship, none of them measured up to the San Francisco detective. It had become unbearable until she decided she needed to hear his voice again.

"I miss you, Ed. I have to see you. Please, can you come to New York? I just can't seem to live without you," she said.

Ed Brown was torn. She wasn't the only one who hadn't had a successful relationship since she left San Francisco. Every woman he dated, when the chief would give him some free time, only served to remind him of a love long lost. He knew what was best for them both was to politely refuse and hang up, but he just couldn't do it. He shouldn't visit her, yet he wanted to see her again. Brown tried to convince himself it would only be for a few short days, and they could part friends. He would return to San Francisco and his job working for the chief. How could it hurt?

"I'd like that," he found himself saying. He shouldn't have, yet he couldn't help himself. He had to see her again.

"Can you get some time off?" Vivian asked in anticipation.

"I have time coming, but I'll have to clear it with the chief," he told her.

"Oh yes, Chief Ironside," she said with what came very close to disdain in her voice. Ironside was a man she didn't understand. She told him so when she spoke to him over the phone for the last time before leaving town.

"He's my boss, Viv."

"I know that. Can you check with him and see if you can get some time off?"

Ed smiled. They didn't have any major cases going at the moment. It was the perfect time to ask for a bit of vacation time. Eve could handle whatever came up, and if not, then the chief could borrow Carl Reese as he had in the past to help. "I'll ask him right away."

"Perfect! I can't wait to see you, Ed Brown," she said excitedly.

"Me too."

"Goodbye, Ed."

"Goodbye, Viv." Ed hung up his cell phone and placed it back in his pocket. Now, he just had to ask the chief. He wasn't looking forward to it. Despite trying to allow his detectives their private lives, the chief cared about them, and asking for an immediate vacation was going to send up red flags, even though there really wasn't any reason for him to worry.

Sergeant Brown headed back up the ramp and entered the office. As he came down the ramp, all eyes were on him. Chief Ironside didn't say anything, although Ed knew he was curious about the mysterious phone call he just received.

"Everything all right?" Ironside finally asked.

"Everything is fine," Ed assured him.

Ironside waited for Ed to elaborate, but he didn't. Ironside hadn't been a detective all these years not to recognize Ed had something on his mind. He could read it in his eyes. "Okay, Ed, what is it? What's wrong?"

Ed smiled. You just couldn't put anything past the chief. When he spoke up, he tried to completely control the tone of his voice to avoid raising the chief's suspicions any further. Otherwise, there were going to be several questions he just wasn't willing to answer. "Chief, nothing's wrong. Everything is fine."

Ironside frowned. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." Ed said nothing for a moment and then looked Ironside straight in the eye. "Chief, since we're a bit slow right now, it would be a good time for me to take a vacation . . . that is if it's all right with you."

"Vacation? Ed, you get a phone call and then come back in here and ask for a vacation out of the blue and you want me to believe there's nothing wrong?" Ironside voiced his skepticism.

"Chief, everything is fine. Really, I'm fine. I just want to take a vacation effective immediately. Will you approve it?" Ed asked.

Obviously, Ed wasn't going to open up and talk to him. To push him any further would be fruitless. It now was only a matter of whether he was going to approve the vacation his sergeant was requesting. Other than old cases, Ed was right; they were slow at the moment. There wasn't any reason not to let him go. Besides as hard as he worked his staff, they deserved to take a vacation.

"Of course I'll approve it. Fill out the proper paperwork and take as long as you need."

"Thanks, Chief. I appreciate it," Ed said.

Eve reached into the filing cabinet and pulled out a vacation request form. She walked over to her co-worker and handed it to him. "Just sign it and I'll fill in the rest. You'll have to put in the dates as well."

Brown smiled at her. "Thanks, Eve." He signed the form and filled in three weeks. He looked up to see the chief staring at him. Ed felt a little guilty not telling him why he wanted the vacation time. He just didn't want to see the look on his face when he told him he wanted to go to New York and visit Vivian. Ed suspected the chief didn't approve of Vivian Page. He'd never come out and said it in so many words. It just wasn't like the chief. It was his demeanor every time her name was brought up after she left Ed behind the last time.

He met Ironside's eyes. "Thanks, Chief. I'll see you when I get back." Brown smiled at Eve and nodded at Mark.

"Later," Sanger said.

"Later," Ed replied. He turned, went up the ramp and hurried out of the office as if he were concerned the chief might change his mind.

After he was gone, Mark walked over to the table. "What do you suppose that was all about?"

Ironside stared straight ahead. Without looking at Mark, he said, "You were in the room. You know as much as I do."

"I wonder where that phone call came from," Eve said.

"I don't know that anymore than you do." Ironside snarled. He regretted his short remark as soon as it came out. Eve was only worried about Ed just as he was.

"Ed doesn't have any relatives. So that can't be it," Mark said.

"Could it be a woman? Eve asked. "What do you think, Chief?"

"I think it's none of our business. If Ed wanted us to know who called him, he would've told us."

"Then you aren't going to try and find out?" Mark stared at his boss. He couldn't believe he wasn't as concerned as he and Eve.

"And just how would I justify checking up on him?" Ironside's tone betrayed his concern.

"Chief, don't take this the wrong way," Eve said, "but that never stopped you before."

Ironside said nothing; he knew Eve was right. If he were concerned, he used his resources to check on them. Why was this time any different? Possibly because, of all of his staff, Ed always seemed to be in complete control of his life. Mark had made some mistakes since he started working for him, and Ironside found it necessary to intervene. Eve shot a teenager, which resulted in her suffering great guilt. Again, he intervened to help her get over it.

Was that phone call serious enough that he should find out if Ed was in any trouble? "Oh hell. Eve, call the phone company. Find out where that phone call came from. Then call the airport and find out where his flight is going."

Mark and Eve grinned as she headed for the closest phone.

2

Frank Hunt was finally granted another parole hearing. For years, he stayed out of trouble in order to convince the parole board he was completely rehabilitated. He spent fifteen years in this stinking hole, and he wanted out. Fifteen years...taken from him by Robert T. Ironside. He hated the man more than he'd ever hated anyone in his entire life. Ironside was the reason he was in this prison. He was the reason the prison board had refused parole.

Frank had done everything asked of him by the warden. He stayed out of fights and informed on other inmates in order to gain favor with the warden. Now, once again, he'd been told Ironside would be informed of his hearing and would have the opportunity to speak. Would the detective succeed in convincing the parole board he was not worthy of being released? Frank didn't understand how one man could have so much influence.

"Frankie, why are you so quiet? You should be happy," Roland Hubbard said.

Roland was his cellmate since the day he walked into the prison for the first time. He was serving a life sentence for the murder of his parents. Hubbard had been a senior in high school. His father and mother attended a party one night. When they returned, they found their son in bed with an eleven-year-old girl. He had injected heroin into her veins. Fortunately, his father was a doctor and was able to keep the girl alive. Not wanting their son in trouble with the law, they paid the girl's parents a huge sum of money, so they wouldn't go to the police.

Furious with Roland for his transgression, his father grounded him for the remainder of the school year. He took away his car, the television in his room as well as his stereo. All of the money from his paychecks from his part-time job at a local restaurant was taken from him and placed into an account he couldn't access. His father constantly called the restaurant, checking up on him to make sure he was working. Roland wasn't allowed to attend any of the school functions. He wasn't allowed to do anything but go to school, work, and then back home again.

Roland developed a hatred for his father. Taking his father's gun out of his den, he went into his parents room and unloaded several rounds into their sleeping bodies.

Ironside was the detective assigned to the case. He quickly arrested Roland who was tried and convicted of the murder of his parents. He was given a sentence of life in prison.

Frank liked and trusted Roland. They became friends over the years. Frank always depended on Roland to watch his back. He wished there was some way they could be released together, but Roland murdered two inmates while in prison and received consecutive sentences. He would never see the outside of the prison.

Frank looked at his friend. "I'm happy about the parole hearing." He was silent for a moment. Then he said, "Ironside has been invited to attend."

"That's not good. He's convinced them to keep you in here before."

"I know. I just hope he's not able to do it again," Frank said.

Roland sat down on the bed. Looking at Frank, he couldn't resist asking about Ironside. "If you're paroled, what about that cop? Will you try to make him pay like you've said you would for years?"

"I want out of here for one reason only. Just between you and me . . ." He was silent for a moment before continuing. "I'm going to kill him. I've done nothing but think about it every day since I came here."

"Frankie, I know I always encouraged you to kill him, but that was just talk. Look, buddy, I'm in here for the rest of my life. You have a chance to get out and stay out. Don't waste it on Ironside; he's not worth it."

"I have thought of nothing else for fifteen years. It's been the only thing keeping me from going crazy. I have to kill him. I promised myself I would if I ever got out of here."

"Just promise me you'll think about it, Frankie. I mean seriously think about it. Forget Ironside. Go on with your life. Stay out of here. Promise me you'll think about it?"

Frank smiled. "You've been a good friend, the best I've ever had. I promise I'll think about it."

"That's all I can ask." Roland lay down on his bunk, picked up a book, and began to read.

Frank looked over at him. Yes, he was the best friend he ever had. He'd miss him. He felt bad about lying to him. Hunt had no intention of changing his mind about killing Ironside. It was the only thing that kept him from going insane. Ironside did this to him, and he was going to pay...with his life. Then Frank could go on with his own life whether he was on the outside or the inside. It no longer made any difference to him.


	2. Chapter 2

Earthquake in San Francisco

Chapter 2

1

Ed Brown looked out the window of the huge airliner he'd flown in to New York City. Ed thought about Vivian Page the entire duration of the flight. He really didn't know what he was doing, coming to New York to visit a woman who'd walked away from him. There wasn't any chance of a relationship. She wouldn't come to San Francisco, and he couldn't give up his job working for the chief. So, why was he here? He knew the answer to that. He still loved her. Seeing her again would give him time with her if only for the three weeks of vacation he'd requested from Chief Ironside.

Ed watched as the plane touched down. The jet roared down the runway. Seeing Vivian was only minutes away. When the plane came to a stop, Ed stood up, removed his luggage from the overhead bin, and waited for his turn to deplane. He followed his fellow passengers in to the terminal. As he entered, he spotted her. She was every bit as beautiful as he remembered.

Vivian smiled and waved when she saw him. Unable to wait for him to come to her, she ran towards him. Ed dropped his suitcase as she jumped into his arms. Their lips met in a long passionate kiss. When they finally parted, Vivian looked into his handsome face. "Hello, Ed Brown."

Ed chuckled. "Hello, Vivian Page." He bent down and kissed her again.

"Well, what do you say we get out of here. I've a car outside in the parking garage."

"Sounds like a plan."

Vivian pulled open his suit coat with both hands. It wasn't there. Ed knew immediately what she was looking for. "You left your gun in San Francisco."

Ed smiled. "I thought that's what you'd want me to do. It was hard though. I feel naked without it."

"I'll tell you what was harder," Vivian said.

"What?"

"I left my heart in San Francisco." She looked up at him with tears in her eyes."

Ed wiped the tears from her face and kissed her again. "Let's go." He picked up his suitcase with one hand and put his arm around her waist with the other. She in turn encircled his waist with her arm. As they walked through JFK Airport, they kept glancing at each other as if to be sure they weren't dreaming.

When they entered the parking garage, they were met with a mob of entertainment reporters. Vivian let go of Ed. She pushed her way through the reporters and opened the trunk of her car. Ed placed his suitcase in the car and slammed the trunk shut.

"Miss Page, who's your companion?" One of them shouted.

Vivian ignored him and continued to push her way through the crowd of reporters. Ed followed her to the driver's door, keeping his body between Vivian and the reporters. Opening the door, he motioned for her to slip in behind the wheel. After shutting the door, he pushed his way through the crowd until he reached the front passenger door. Brown got into the vehicle. She started the car, moved slowly past the reporters and left the parking garage.

"My hero," she grinned.

"Chivalry isn't dead as long as I'm around," he said with a smile.

Vivian ran her hand down the side of Ed's face. "I've never forgotten just how handsome this face is."

Ed removed her hand from his cheek and kissed the back of it. "And I've never forgotten how beautiful you are, but I suggest you watch the road instead of me."

Vivian laughed, and using her hand, threw her hair back. "Last time you conducted the tour. This time I'll do it." She reached down and took Ed's hand in hers. "I'm so happy you came."

Squeezing her hand, he smiled and responded, "So am I."

Vivian turned her attention back to the road. "So, how did your boss react to you coming here to see me?" When Ed didn't respond, she realized why. "You didn't tell him you were coming to see me, did you?"

"No, I didn't. It wasn't necessary to tell him," Ed said, but not very convincingly.

"Not necessary or you didn't want him to know you were visiting me?"

"Viv..."

"No, don't bother to answer. I know he doesn't approve of me."

"That's not true," Ed said, defending his boss.

"Yes, it is and you know it. But, you know what? I don't care whether he approves. You came. That's all that matters to me."

They spent the trip to her apartment bringing each other up to date. Vivian told him all about her work in the theater. She was so animated, Ed could tell she loved acting and theater was where she belonged. It suited her more than the movies. Although, if she'd chosen the movies instead of the theater, she'd at least be in the Los Angeles area. They could be together between movie roles. Instead, they were on opposite sides of the country.

Ed knew this was crazy. They were never going to work out any kind of relationship under the circumstances. Yet, he did not care. He was here now with Vivian and she with him. The moment was all that mattered to him right now. He'd thought he'd gotten over her, but he'd been wrong. Seeing her again made him come alive.

They arrived at her penthouse apartment in Manhattan. Vivian called for a porter to bring Ed's suitcase up to the apartment, despite his protest that he could carry it up himself. She'd have no part of it. She intended to pamper him until he realized he didn't want to go back to San Francisco and that boss of his.

The actress opened the door to the apartment and stood there with her hand out. "Home sweet home." Grinning at him, she backed into the apartment in a seductive pose. Ed followed her in, closed the door, and headed directly to her. Taking her in his arms, Ed kissed her. When the kiss ended, Ed placed his forehead on hers."

"Would you like to see the bedroom, Ed Brown?" She asked in a sultry voice.

Ed pulled back. "Viv, are you sure you want this?"

Looking directly into his brown eyes, she whispered, "I haven't thought about anything else since you said you would come." She grabbed his hands and pulled him toward the bedroom. Opening the door, she watched him as he looked in.

Ed couldn't believe the size of the bedroom. It was larger than his entire apartment. In fact, this penthouse was larger than the office residence Chief Ironside lived in. Eve's parents' house had nothing on this apartment! He looked over to a smiling Vivian Page.

"Well?" She asked.

Ed picked her up and carried her over to the bed.

2

While Eve talked to an employee of the phone company, Ironside was becoming impatient. It shouldn't take that long to get the information on Ed's cell phone. He listened intently to Eve's conversation. They were indeed giving her problems regarding giving up the phone number of the call Ed had received. Unable to wait any longer, Ironside called over his shoulder, "Transfer that call to me, Eve."

Officer Whitfield informed the employee Chief Ironside wanted to talk to her. She then transferred the call as her boss had ordered.

"This is Chief Ironside. What's the problem with giving us the phone number we've requested?" He growled.

"I'm sorry, Chief Ironside. We aren't allowed to give out the information you have requested without a court order," she told him.

"Now listen carefully. I have an officer that could be in trouble. If something happens to him, I'll arrest you for interfering in a police investigation."

"Sir, your officer didn't say it was an investigation. I'll have the information sent over to you right away."

"Thank you." Ironside hung up the phone.

Mark walked over to the table and placed another cup of coffee in front of the chief. "When did Ed's vacation become a police investigation?"

Eve joined them at the table with a smile on her face. "Yes, Chief, do tell."

"You pointed out Ed could be in trouble. We're investigating whether he is."

The door to the office opened. Commissioner Randall entered and came down the ramp. Ironside looked over his shoulder to see who'd come in. "Well hello, Dennis. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

Randall sat down. "Mark, is there any coffee? Don't bother if it's the bottom of the pot."

"Mark just made a fresh pot." Ironside nodded at Mark who headed for the kitchen to get Randall a cup of coffee. He returned a moment later and set in front of the commissioner.

Randall took a sip of the coffee, well aware that they were waiting for him to tell them why he was there. Setting the coffee mug back down on the table, he pondered how his friend would take the news he was about to give him.

"Dennis, if you've brought us another case, why don't you just come out with it?" Ironside said impatiently.

"It's not a case, Bob. It's about Frank Hunt," Randall told him.

"Who's Frank Hunt?" Eve asked.

Without answering her, Ironside was looking straight at his boss. "What about Hunt?"

"The warden called me this morning. They have granted Hunt another parole hearing. They ask me to extend an invitation for you to attend the hearing and speak if you choose to."

Ironside shook his head. "When will they learn Frank Hunt should serve his entire sentence? Parole shouldn't be granted to him. In fact, he should stay in prison for the rest of his life."

"Don't you think you might be just a little prejudice on this one?"

"Prejudice? Dennis, what the blazes are you talking about?" Ironside snarled.

"He robbed a bank and you arrested him. The judge gave him twenty years. Bob, he's served fifteen of those years. You've blocked his parole twice now. Yet, the warden said he's been a model prisoner the entire time he's been incarcerated. There isn't any reason he shouldn't be paroled. Why do you insist on blocking it?"

"Dennis, he killed a man," Ironside said.

The commissioner shook his head. "There wasn't enough evidence to prove he did it. You know that. I heard you tell the district attorney just that."

"Just because we couldn't obtain enough evidence doesn't mean he didn't do it," Ironside insisted.

"A man is innocent until proven guilty. You can't keep him in prison because you believe he killed the man."

"Paroling Frank Hunt is a mistake. He'll only kill again."

"I thought we established you didn't have the evidence. Doesn't that mean he's innocent because he wasn't proven guilty?" Randall asked sarcastically. Catching himself, he decided he'd been around Robert Ironside too long. He was becoming as sarcastic as his former Chief of Detectives.

"We established we didn't have enough evidence to take him to trial. If the parole board turns him loose on society, the case will be reopened. I'll find that evidence. I'm telling you, he belongs behind bars."

"Oh, for cripe's sake, Bob let it go! Attend the hearing if you want to. I suggest you let the parole board make the decision and accept it." The commissioner took another sip of coffee and set the cup back on the table. "I've work to do and so do you. I'll be on my way. He nodded towards Mark and Eve and left the office.

Eve sat down beside the chief. "So who's Frank Hunt. I don't remember ever hearing the name before."

Ironside though back over fifteen years ago. He was a detective sergeant and had been assigned a string of bank robberies. All the robberies had the same MO. Two men walked into the back with masks and guns. Each of the banks were small branches. One man kept an AK14 held on the bank employees while the other man collected all the money in the teller drawers and the vault. They left almost as quickly as they came in.

Despite bank employees being able to set off the alarm to the police, Frank Hunt was able to somehow disable them. The FBI hadn't been able to figure out how he'd accomplished it. Ironside didn't believe Hunt had the ability to do so. He pressured the man in charge of security at the branch of Wells Fargo into admitting he'd been paid by Frank Hunt to disable the system. The man turned on Hunt when offered a deal by the district attorney. Somehow, Hunt found out about it. The employee was found shot dead in a motel room even though he had police protection. He'd been shot with a silence weapon through the bathroom window.

Ironside suspected Hunt was responsible, but hadn't been able to prove it. Unfortunately for Hunt, the employee had given up the location of his share of the money. When it was dusted for prints, Frank Hunt's prints were all over the bills. Hunt had no alibi and fit the height and build of one of the bank robbers. He was tried, convicted, and sentenced to twenty years in prison.

When the chief got through with his narrative, Mark couldn't stay quiet. "Chief, some people change. He's been in prison for fifteen years of his sentence. The warden says he's been a model prisoner. Give the guy a break. You did me."

"Mark, you were a product of your situation. There was never any doubt you could turn around, at least not to me. Frank Hunt killed a man. I couldn't prove it then, but I know he did it. He belongs right where he is and I intend to do everything I can to see he stays there."

Eve suspected there was more to this than the chief was telling them. "Okay, who was the man that was murdered and who was he to you?"

Ironside's demeanor didn't change, even though his reaction would've caused him to cringe if it hadn't been for years of perfecting his poker face. Eve saw right through him. He shouldn't have been surprised. He trained this officer himself. Regardless of her young age, she was one of the best in the department.

He could've kept it to himself, although he suspected Eve would check into it further. He might as well save her the trouble. "The young man was the son of one of my dearest friends. His killer belongs behind bars."

"But Chief, the evidence wasn't there," Eve said.

"He did it, Eve. I promised Zack Hill's mother his killer wouldn't get away with it. I couldn't prove it, but Frank Hunt killed Zack. He's not getting out of prison on an early parole."

"Chief, even if you succeed in getting his parole denied, he'll be released in five years anyway," Mark pointed out to his boss.

"Not if I can help it. I've never closed the case on Zack's murder. I'll find the proof to make him pay for what he did," Ironside said.

3

The office was quiet except for the pounding of the rain. Eve went home for the evening and Mark retired to his room to study. Ironside wheeled over to the window to watch the rain come down. He couldn't stop thinking about Frank Hunt. Ironside couldn't allow a cold-blooded murderer to return to the streets. The detective didn't care what the warden said about Hunt. He was a killer and a manipulator. Hunt manipulated Zack Hill to cooperate with his plans to rob the bank. Zack's security business had failed, and he was in debt thousands of dollars. Ironside didn't know how Hunt found out about it, but he did.

Frank Hunt offered the young man the exact amount of money he was in debt for. Of course Zack could've refused. Hunt knew Zack not only lost his business, but was also on the verge of losing his home and his vehicle. He didn't want to go crawling to his parents. Hunt took advantage of it and manipulated him into helping with crippling the security system, so he could get away before the police arrived.

The phone rang behind the detective. Ironside turned his chair around and wheeled over to the table. Picking up the phone he answered it, not with the typical "Ironside" he did during office hours, but with the traditional "Hello."

"Robert, I've not seen much of you lately," Katherine said. "I've gotten the feeling you're avoiding me because of my own stupidity."

Ironside smiled. Katherine could always bring a smile to his face. "I'm sorry. I really have no excuse. We don't have a major case going on right now."

"Robert, we need to talk," she said.

"What's wrong, Katherine?"

"Can I come over? I'm not far from your office."

"Of course you can. I'll be waiting." Ironside hung up the phone.

Within fifteen minutes there was a knock on the door. He wheeled up the ramp. Grabbing the knob and pushing his chair back slightly, he opened the door. He took Katherine's hand and guided her inside. Instead of greeting him with a kiss, Katherine smiled and walked past him down the ramp. When she reached the table, she sat down and waited for Robert to join her.

As he wheeled over to her, he was reminded of another woman who told him she was leaving him. He didn't like the vibes, as Mark would say, that Katherine was giving off. He reached out and took her hand. "Have I done something to offend or hurt you?"

She looked at him, puzzled by his question. "Of course not, Robert, whatever gave you that idea?"

"Well the last time a woman looked at me like you are doing . . ."

Katherine interrupted him immediately. "I'm not Barbara, Robert. I don't walk out when the going gets tough. Besides this wasn't your fault, it was mine."

"Katherine, I must admit I've no idea what you're talking about," he told her.

"My behavior. I should've trusted you instead of . . ." She stopped and looked away from him.

Ironside was completely confused. "Please tell me what's on your mind. Whatever it is, we can work it out."

"Alexandra Hughes."

"What about her?"

"I visited your office when she was here," she began.

"I don't remember you being in the office at the same time as Alexandra."

"That is because I didn't stay. I saw . . . well I saw you . . ."

Ironside thought back to the conversation with Alexandra and it hit him what Katherine was talking about. "You saw her kiss me."

She looked at him. "She kissed you?"

He smiled. "You thought I kissed her?"

"Well, I thought . . . yes, I thought so."

"Well I didn't. Obviously, you didn't stay long enough to see me push her away and tell her it was over a long time ago."

"You did."

"I did."

"Robert, I'm so sorry. I was so upset. I thought I was losing you to her and wasn't thinking straight. Then Francois Montre called and I should've known he wouldn't be interested in my wine. I should've seen through him. I caused you a great deal of trouble and I'm so sorry."

The detective kissed her hand. "Don't you know by now that I love you. Alexandra Hughes is past history. You're my future. When it comes to other women, you've absolutely nothing to worry about. Remember, you said when I retire from police work, we'll run the vineyards together."

"I feel so foolish." She could not look him in the eye.

He raised her chin to meet his gaze. "Don't. I'm happy that you love me enough to be just a little jealous."

She chuckled. "I was a lot more than a little jealous."

Smiling at her, he suggested, "It's getting late. Will you spend the night here with me?"

She nodded. "I would love to, if you'd like me too."

"I would. Why don't we retire for the night?" Ironside suggested.

Katherine smiled, stood up and wheeled him to the bedroom.

4

The rain continued in a steady downpour. Mark Sanger closed his text book and prepared to turn out the light. As he reached to set it on the stand, he noticed the glass of bourbon he set there began to slide around. The bed he was resting on started moving. The room shook. Mark realized it was an earthquake. It was the first time he experienced a quake.

The chief! He had to get to the chief. Mark stood up, but the floor was swaying underneath him. He struggled to the door holding the frame. When he regained his balance, he headed into the main room of the office. The papers on the table were sent to the floor with the shaking. Books fell off the shelves and kitchen utensils were rolling on the floor. Mark swayed with the earthquake like a drunken sailor. He was thrown one way and then the other as he slowly reached Ironside's room. He threw open the door. His boss was holding Katherine.

"Chief!" Mark called out.

"We're all right, Mark."

The shaking stopped. Katherine sat up, as Ironside shouted, "Mark, get me into my chair!"

Sanger helped the handicapped detective into his wheelchair. Ironside wheeled into the main room and headed for the closest phone which was on his desk. He picked up the receiver and called downstairs. "Contact all units on patrol. Have them report in. Call in whatever off duty officers that are needed." He hung up the phone. He turned to see Katherine join them at the table.

"Chief, don't you think we should call Eve and make sure she is all right?" Mark asked.

"Go ahead. That wasn't a bad quake. Probably a five pointer or so. I don't think there will be that much damage. We may need extra police to stop looting and help those that may have been affected. I think we will find most won't be any worse off than this office."

Mark looked around. Although there were objects and papers on the floor, the chief was right; it wasn't that bad.

As reports started coming in, his summation was correct. There'd been some damage which was fairly minor. Police were able to prevent any looting. A few arrests were made. San Francisco had been shaken around, but by the most part it was fine.

What they did not know was it was only a prelude to what was to come.


	3. Chapter 3

Earthquake in San Francisco

Chapter 3

1

Officer Eve Whitfield entered the office and headed straight for the table where the boss had already finished his breakfast and read the morning San Francisco Chronicle. "Did you feel that earthquake, Chief? It nearly knocked me right out of bed."

The chief noted that his officer was extremely excited and animated. One would think she had never experienced an earthquake before. He rested the palm of his hand on his wheelchair, drawing his shoulders back. "Of course we felt it. It is not the first . . . "

"I had to get up early to pick things up from the floor knocked there by the quake!"

"Well then, that explains why you are late this morning," Ironside said sarcastically.

Eve smiled. The chief never missed anything. She was only late by five minutes, yet he still observed the time she entered the office. "I just couldn't help it, Chief. I drove around a bit looking at the damage.

Mark brought a cup of coffee and prepared to set it in front of Eve. Ironside took the coffee from his aide and set it in front of him. "Officer Whitfield is already wired. She doesn't need the help of caffeine." He took a sip from the mug. Immediately, made a face. "What'd you do to it this time?"

Mark shook his head at a remark he often heard from his boss. "For someone who complains about my coffee, you sure seem to drink a lot of it. Eve is not the only one who doesn't need the caffeine."

"What does the amount of caffeine I'm consuming have to do with the quality of the coffee I drink?" Ironside snarled.

"Oh, nothing, Chief, absolutely nothing. Everyone loves to drink lousy coffee," Mark quipped as Eve chuckled.

"Can we get some work done around here?" Ironside said with a frown on his face. "Miss Whitfield, just how hard is it to get a phone number from the phone company?"

"I have the number, Chief. I got it this morning. That is why I'm late. It wasn't checking out the damage that caused it. I stopped downstairs to get the information you requested." She reached into her purse, pulled out a paper and set it down in front of her boss.

Ironside picked up the paper which had a phone number written on it. He looked up at his pretty policewoman and with sarcasm asked, "Is it asking too much to know whose phone number this is?"

Eve smiled. "I thought you would never ask. You are not going to like it though."

"Try me," Ironside said.

"The phone number is a cell number and it belongs to Vivian Page."

Looking up sharply, Ironside deduced, "And Ed flew to New York City. He went to see her."

Eve pulled a print out and set it down. "That's right chief. It seems he went to New York to visit Vivian Page."

"Isn't that the chick that did one movie and then decided on the theater instead?" Mark asked.

"That's the one," Ironside said. "Why is she contacting Ed after all this time?"

"The question is more like . . . why is Ed flying all the way across the country to see her when she left him behind?" Mark asked.

"Maybe he just wanted to renew an old romance," Eve suggested. "I didn't understand why he was interested in her in the first place."

"I do. She is beautiful," Mark said.

"What's that to do with it? She put him down because he was a cop. She couldn't respect what he does for a living, or bother to try to understand why it's important to him," Eve pointed out.

"Whatever his reasons," Ironside interrupted his subordinates, "it's no longer any of our business. It's obvious Ed isn't in any trouble."

"That's a matter of opinion," Eve said.

Ironside didn't like it. He didn't like to see his people hurt. It seemed to him Ed was setting himself up for a fall. He really couldn't see Ed and Vivian Page together. She would never accept his choice of career, not the way he remembered it. Nevertheless, there wasn't anything further he could do about it. He had more important things to worry about than Ed Brown's love life.

"Let's try to get some work done this morning. Eve, get the warden on the phone for me."

Eve glanced at Mark and then turned her attention back to the chief. "You're going to Frank Hunt's parole hearing, then?"

"Eve, just get the warden on the phone." Ironside wasn't interested in rehashing that conversation again.

Eve went over to the chief's desk to get the phone number for the prison. She dialed the prison and waited for an answer. When she received it, she said, "This is Officer Whitfield of Chief Ironside's office. The chief would like to speak with Warden Leydon." When Leydon came on the line, she looked up. "Line two, Chief."

Ironside pushed the appropriate line. Before he could even greet the warden, Leydon said, "Robert, I've been expecting your call. You, of course, want to discuss Frank Hunt."

"I do. I want to attend his parole hearing," Ironside said.

"Robert, I must warn you the winds are pointing in approving his parole," Warden Leydon said.

"Warden, that would be a mistake," Ironside disagreed.

"Don't you think you are just a bit hard on the man? He's been a model prisoner since he arrived here fifteen years ago. I don't think you'll be able to convince the board to deny his parole this time."

"When's the hearing?" the chief asked.

"Tomorrow. That's why I contacted Commissioner Randall. I wanted to let you know about it."

"You could've called me directly," Ironside said.

"It is not always easy reaching you, Robert. I figured Dennis would let you know right away. You know, we didn't have to inform you at all. I did it because I feel I owe you."

"You don't owe me a damn thing."

"I feel I do. You came to the prison to see Terry Wilson and were taken prisoner by him and his men. You could've been harmed, even killed. We should have known Wilson was up to something when he asked you to come to the prison," Warden Leydon said regretfully.

"Seems to me you were the one that got shot."

"Yes, but it was your ingenuity that kept Wilson from getting away with it. He should've picked a different officer if he wanted to escape."

Ironside wasn't in the mood to go down memory lane. Quite frankly, he didn't feel Leydon owed him anything. Nor was he going to allow him to distract from the business at hand. "Frank Hunt will kill again if you release him."

"Robert, be reasonable. We'll have to release him in five years anyway. Keeping him here is just taking up space we need."

"So now you're considering releasing criminals because they are taking up space," Ironside growled.

"You know better than that. He hasn't violated one single rule and has stayed completely out of trouble. We need the space for more violent criminals. I'm sorry, Robert, but you're going to have to accept that Frank Hunt is going to get his parole."

"I don't have to accept it and I don't. I'll see you tomorrow." Ironside slammed the phone into the receiver. He didn't like it. They were making a grave mistake. Frank Hunt only behaved himself to get out of prison early. There wasn't any way the man changed. Ironside could feel it in his gut and his gut feelings were never wrong. He had to try to keep Hunt in prison where he belonged.

"Chief, maybe the commissioner is right. After all Frank Hunt has been a model prisoner over the years he's been incarcerated," Eve said.

"Frank Hunt is no more rehabilitated than Charles Manson," Ironside grumbled.

"Manson is dead, Chief," Mark reminded him.

"And, he died in prison. So should Frank Hunt."

"Well, it doesn't look like that's going to happen," Mark said. "According to the commissioner, the parole board is going to turn him loose."

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Ironside insisted. "I'm going to that hearing tomorrow. I have to try to convince the parole board to turn down his parole."

"It doesn't sound like it is going to do any good, Chief," Eve warned him.

"I'm going to try anyway," Ironside said. He wheeled over to the computer and turned it on. Once it had booted up, the chief pulled up Frank Hunt's records. He went to prison for robbing banks. What bothered him was he'd gotten away with murder. Ironside was as sure of it as he was certain he'd never get out of the flaming chair. Justice! Sometimes he wondered why it eluded some people. His friend's son was murdered by Frank Hunt. Yet, the parole board was about to turn his killer loose. Of course, he wasn't in prison for murder. Nevertheless, he couldn't believe they would allow a man who committed felony bank robbery to go free. Hunt should serve his entire sentence.

He continued looking through the file. There had to be a hint of how he got away with murder. If it was there, Ironside was going to find it. If he couldn't keep him behind bars for bank robbery, he would tie him to the murder. He was determined to find the evidence. It had to be there. The man simply didn't belong on the streets. Turning him loose would mean the death of some unsuspecting citizen, and Ironside was sworn to protect the people of San Francisco. He damn well was going to do it. The detective had made up his mind. He was reopening the murder of Zack Hill. He intended to hang his murder around Frank Hunt's neck. There wasn't any doubt, at least not in his mind that Hunt was his killer. It was time he paid for that crime as well. That would put him in prison for the rest of his natural life.

2

Ed opened his eyes. Looking over to Vivian's side of the bed, he could see that it was empty. She was already up and out of the bedroom. He could smell the aroma of bacon and eggs in the air. It was a long time since a woman made him breakfast. In fact, it was a long time since he'd spent the night with a woman. His job with the chief kept him from entering into a meaningful relationship. Actually, he knew that wasn't true. The chief had Katherine, and he worked just as many hours as Ed did. He supposed the real reason was he never got over Vivian Page.

Brown threw the covers back and swung his long legs over the side of the bed. Walking over to his suitcase, he pulled out his robe and slipped into it. He'd have to follow the smell of breakfast since they had headed for the bedroom as soon as they arrived. He didn't have any idea where the kitchen was located her huge penthouse apartment.

Ed opened the bedroom door and stepped into the hall. He forgot to pack slippers, so he'd have to be satisfied walking around barefoot. It appeared to be an advantage as the carpet was so plush, he felt as if he were walking on cotton. After a couple wrong turns, he finally located the kitchen. Vivian was just placing eggs on the two plates that had been set on the glass table-top. Ed couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten at his own kitchen table. Actually, he'd eaten at the chief's table far more than he had at his own.

Vivian looked up to see the detective standing in the doorway. "It's about time you got up, Ed Brown. I was just about to come and get you. Bacon and eggs for breakfast just like what I imagine your chief eating for breakfast."

"The chief doesn't care for eggs," Ed told her, "but he will eat them if they're placed in front of him."

She stopped for a moment. "If you don't like eggs, I can make you something else for breakfast."

He smiled. "Eggs are fine. Unlike the chief, I like them."

Vivian was pondering how to raise the subject of the meeting she'd set up. She worried Ed wouldn't like what she'd done. How else were they going to be together if one of them didn't give in and move to the other side of the country. It couldn't be her. Her job was here in New York. She was a theater actress. Any actor or actress worth their salt stayed in New York. Certainly, they could tour with a play that moved around the country. Those plays still originated in New York. Besides, this was the city to be in when it came to working in the theater; just like Los Angeles was the city to be in if one wanted a career in television or the movies. Even movie actors and actresses had to go on location to film the movies.

Ed Brown, on the other hand, was just a police officer. Despite the fact she loathed his profession, she would look the other way regarding it. It was a profession he could work anywhere. It was not as if San Francisco was the only city that had police. Every city did. Therefore, he could work anywhere in the United States, which meant he could work right here in New York City. She had to get him to understand that. Why did Robert Ironside have such a hold on him? She didn't know, but she had every intention of breaking that hold.

Ed sat down to eat his breakfast. Vivian sat at the other side of the table. Never taking her eyes from him, they ate in relative silence. When the last of the bacon and eggs had been devoured, Vivian knew she couldn't put off the discussion anylonger. "I've a surprise for you today, Ed Brown."

He looked up at her and smiled. "Surprise? What surprise?"

"I want you to meet someone today. I've asked him to talk to you." Vivian reached out and placed her hand over Ed's hand.

"So who am I meeting?" Ed asked.

"That's a surprise. I'm not going to tell you. You'll know soon enough. I want you to promise me you'll go into this with an open mind." She looked directly into his brown eyes.

Ed instantly became a bit uncomfortable. What was Vivian up to? Who was she taking him to see? He supposed the only way he was going to find out was to go along with it. "All right, I promise to have an open mind."

She grinned at him. "I knew I could count on you." Vivian stood up and began clearing the dishes. "We'd better get ready. I'll call my chauffeur to be ready to take us in a half-hour."

"Can't we just take a cab like everyone else?"

She grinned. "Nothing but the best for you. Now get ready while I do up these dishes."

"Don't you have a maid for that?" Ed asked.

She turned to face him. "Of course I have a maid. She only comes in once a week. Don't you think I am capable of doing the dishes or do you think I just pile them up in the sink until she comes in?" She was amused and it showed.

"Okay, you do the dishes and I'll get ready." Ed walked over to her, kissed her, and headed back to the bedroom.

Vivian watched as he left. She almost crossed her fingers. Everything she had planned was riding on how open he'd actually be to this interview.

3

Mayor Ted Barr walked into Dennis Randall's office. He approached the commissioner's secretary who perked up right away. Barr had been appointed by the city council to take over as mayor after the disgraced Patrick Simpson had been arrested for the murder of Howard Jergens and for embezzling thousands of dollars from the city. Betsy heard Ted Barr had every intention of being elected to the position in the next election. He had political aspirations which did not stop at being mayor of San Francisco. It was only a stepping stone for him and everyone knew it.

"I don't have an appointment, Betsy, but I'd like to see the commissioner if he can find the time."

"I'll check with him, Mister Mayor. Please have a seat." Mayor Barr went over and sat down. Betsy picked up the receiver and punched the intercom to her boss' office. When he answered, she told him, "Commissioner, the mayor is here to see you. He doesn't have an appointment, but he is wondering if you've a minute to talk to him."

A moment later, the door to the commissioner's office opened and Dennis Randall came out. "Mister Mayor, come in. It is good to see you."

Mayor Barr followed the commissioner into his office as Randall shut the door behind them. "How's the transition going, Ted?"

"As you know, Dennis, it's never easy to take over after a scandal the multitude of what Patrick Simpson did. Everyone scrutinizes you closer. You almost have to pay for what the guy before you did."

Randall nodded in agreement. "It is always that way and I guess it should be. The public has a right to know we're honest."

"They do at that. I've come here to speak with you about a sensitive subject, Commissioner."

"Let me guess . . . Bob Ironside, right?"

Barr chuckled. "You know, that man is absolutely brilliant when it comes to solving crimes . . ."

"But he drives us nuts in the process. Is that what you were going to say? If you think he drives the city council crazy, you should try being his direct supervisor," Randall laughed with a raised eyebrow.

"Let's face it. We're not his superiors; he's his own boss," the mayor quipped. Randall and the new mayor shared another laugh.

"So what's Bob done that has you concerned?" The commissioner asked.

"It's this business with Frank Hunt. He's determined to keep him in prison."

"Yes," Randall acknowledged. "I'm aware of it. In fact, I just had a conversation with him regarding that very thing. I told him to let it go, or rather I advised him. I rarely give him an order. If it suits him, he'd ignore the order anyway, and I don't want to put myself in the position of having to discipline him."

The mayor laughed. "I told you he's his own boss, didn't I? Well, the public loves him. And, Patrick Simpson calling for that Internal Affairs investigation on him when he knew fully well he didn't do anything wrong, just made the public love him all the more. Actually, Dennis, I'll admit I don't care what he does as long as he keeps putting criminals behind bars."

"That's because you don't have to deal directly with him like I do," Randall said. They looked at each other and both men began laughing again. When they stopped, Commissioner Randall asked, "So, what's Bob done this time that you want me to try to reign in?"

"Actually, you already have tried that by telling him to accept that Frank Hunt is going to be released."

Randall shook his head. "That's not going to stop Bob from investigating the man and trying to keep him behind bars. He'll do it anyway despite me trying to discourage him."

"I don't want you to discourage him, Dennis," the mayor said.

Surprised, Randall asked, "Then just exactly what do you want me to do?"

"Tell me, how often is Bob Ironside wrong about a criminal?" Barr asked him.

"Once in a moon . . . a blue moon, when it's full, and has a smiley face on it," Randall said sarcastically.

Mayor Barr laughed heartily. "Dennis, you've been around him too long. You're becoming as sarcastic as he is."

Randall smiled. "He can rub off on you after a while. So, we've established he is rarely wrong. What's your point?"

"My point is if Bob thinks Hunt is dangerous and should remain behind bars, then I'm inclined to believe him. Besides, I got a call stating as soon as Hunt gets out, Ironside is his target. He wants him out of the way."

"You mean dead?"

"That's exactly what I mean. We've an obligation to protect the chief. Therefore, I'm ordering you to tell him to do everything he can to keep Frank Hunt in prison. If he can't do that, then he's to investigate the man to his heart's content until he finds something to put him right back there."

"If that's what you want, Mister Mayor, I'll go back and have another talk with him."

"Good. And Dennis, tell him he's not to go anywhere without one of his officer's with him."

"He'll never agree to that. He's too damn proud and stubborn," Randall pointed out.

"Tell him it's an order and one we expect him to obey . . . at least this time."

"Who was the call from, Ted?" Randall asked.

"I don't know. He refused to give his name and said Hunt was right where he belonged. He said Hunt has been on his best behavior so that he could get an early parole. Hunt wants to kill Ironside."

"And, you have no idea who this man was?" Randall asked.

"No, but there's only one place a man could get that kind of information," the mayor pointed out.

"Right in the prison itself. One of the inmates must've made the call."

"That's what I figured as well," Mayor Barr agreed. "That's the reason I'm taking this very seriously."

"I'll talk to Bob. I'll leave him with the condition he can investigate Frank Hunt if he'll accept police protection."

"Will that work?" Mayor Barr questioned.

"Probably not, but it's worth a try. He's going to investigate Hunt regardless of what we say."

"Well, you can only do so much. I'd better get back to work. By the way, the police did a great job handling the public after that slight earthquake. The looting was kept to a minimum and those that needed help got it."

"Thanks, Ted. It's gratifying to know someone notices," Randall responded.

Mayor Ted Barr headed for the door. "Dennis, keep an eye on Bob. We need him. Don't let anything happen to him. I'll see you later."

Randall watched as the mayor left his office. Picking up the phone, he pressed the intercom. "Betsy, I'll be out for the rest of the day."


	4. Chapter 4

Earthquake in San Francisco

Chapter 4

1

The New York City streets were jammed with vehicles. Impatient drivers laid on their horns to try to move people out of their way. Those that didn't hail a cab, walked shoulder to shoulder down the street headed in their destination. New York was known as the "city that never sleeps," and Ed didn't doubt it. He'd been in the Big Apple before and at all hours, and people never seemed to be phased by the lateness of the hour they were roaming the streets. Brown admitted he found the city exciting. He loved visiting it, but it lacked the charm of his hometown of San Francisco.

In the Golden Gate city, Ed never had to worry about snow and ice. He'd been subjected to it when traveling different times, and he just didn't care for the cold weather. He much preferred the mild winters of San Francisco. You would need a jacket in the winter, but in New York the temperature could, at times, drop below zero. Ed didn't understand how people could live there year around.

He watched the New Yorkers out the window of the taxi. He couldn't help but wonder where Vivian was taking him. Ed tried to get her to tell him, but she only laughed and told him he'd find out soon enough. He finally quit pushing her to reveal their destination, as the more he tried, the more she enjoyed keeping it from him.

Finally, the cab driver pulled into the New York City Police Headquarters. The sergeant's enthusiasm waned as they entered the police parking garage. What were they doing here? Why did Vivian bring him to this particular place?

Vivian noticed Ed's expression had changed from excitement to . . . she wasn't exactly sure what it was. He didn't look please to be at the police department. She'd hoped he'd figure out why they were here and it would prompt even more excitement on his part. Why did he have such a loyalty to Robert Ironside. He was only his boss. He'd have a new one here, and probably one who was easier to work for.

The cab driver parked the vehicle and collected his fare from Vivian. She got out on one side and Ed got out on the other. Vivian took his arm and led him into the building.

"Viv, I don't understand. What are we doing here?" He asked her.

"You'll see." She smiled at him, although she didn't receive a smile in return. She hoped for a better reaction from Ed. After all, if they were to be together, he was going to have to move to New York. This interview was very important. She wasn't worried whether he'd impress the captain. If he could impress the very demanding Chief Ironside, he could impress anyone.

As they walked to the main desk, Vivian didn't have to introduce herself. The police officer, who sat behind it, smiled as soon as he saw her. "Hi, Miss Page. It's nice to see you. What can I help you with?"

"We've an appointment with Captain Emerick." Vivian could feel Ed's eyes on her. He hadn't said a word since asking why they were here at Police Headquarters. She was becoming just a bit worried. Maybe after the interview, Ed would see things differently.

After receiving their visitor passes, Vivian once again took Ed's arm, and they headed for the elevators. When they arrived, she pressed the button to the floor where the captain's office was located. Still, Ed said nothing. He also seemed to be avoiding looking at her.

The elevator doors opened and they stepped into the hall. Vivian knew exactly where to find Captain Emerick's office. She put her hand in Ed's, and they went down to the fourth room on their right. The door had Emerick's name and rank across the window. Vivian knocked on the door.

Captain J.C. Emerick waved them in with a swipe of his hand. Ed opened the door and waited until Vivian entered in front of him. Emerick offered his hand and smiled. "Welcome, Miss Page."

Vivian shook his hand and then put her hand on Ed's arm. "This is the police detective I've been telling you about, Sergeant Ed Brown from the San Francisco Police Department."

Emerick shook Ed's hand. "I don't need to be told who this man is." His smile turned into a grin. I watched the president's trial quite closely. You work for Chief Robert Ironside; the detective who brought down half the politicians in Washington when he was working with his brother to clear the president. I remember seeing you with Chief Ironside in the papers and on television. I'm honored to have such a fine detective here. Please sit down, Sergeant Brown."

Ed obliged the man, not really feeling like listening even after he flattered him. He wasn't the one who brought down the politicians in Washington. That was his boss. As always, Ed took orders and assisted Chief Ironside, but it was the chief and his brother who masterminded their take-down. Ed decided to get right to the point. "Why am I here?"

Captain Emerick smiled. "I thought Vivian would've told you. But, that's all right, I'll tell you myself. Vivian says there is a chance you might be willing to move to New York."

Ed looked over at her. She should've spoken to him first. Neither of them had faced the problem that was between them. Despite, not being able to forget her, Ed Brown loved his job. He was part of something special and he knew it. There were plenty of officers who envied his position with Chief Ironside. Vivian didn't understand the chief. Furthermore, she didn't understand what the city of San Francisco met to Ed. Her dislike of police wouldn't allow her to see the good work the chief's office did. Nor did she really seem to know much about what they'd accomplished. "She did?" Ed responded.

"Yes, and I'm not above beating all other police departments to the punch," Captain Emerick said. "Ed, may I call you Ed?"

Brown didn't say anything. He simply nodded. At this point, he didn't care what he called him. This meeting wasn't going anywhere. He hadn't come to New York with the idea of moving here. He thought Vivian would've known that. But, the more he thought about it, how could she know? He didn't say he would visit, but wouldn't stay. He supposed he didn't like her deciding his future as a police officer.

Emerick noticed the coolness Brown was displaying. He was led to believe hiring Ed Brown was just a matter of finding the right price to lure him away from Robert Ironside. He'd depended on Vivian Page as part of that allure. Now, he wasn't so sure. The sergeant was less than enthusiastic. "We'd love to have you come and work for the NYPD, Ed. I've been give authorization to offer you a team of your own. You'll head it and be in complete charge. You'd be doing exactly what you are doing now, only here in New York."

Vivian Page couldn't believe Ed's attitude! It was obvious he wasn't even considering Captain Emerick's offer. How were they ever going to be together if he refused to come live in New York? She thought when he accepted her invitation to come visit; he'd be opened to finally moving to the Big Apple. Otherwise, why did he bother to come at all? He should've known his leaving her and returning to San Francisco would dredge up the parting of ways all over again. They had to have a serious talk. What was the status of their relationship? Did he only come to New York to put another notch in his belt, since they hadn't slept together in San Francisco? Vivian tried to turn her attention back to Captain Emerick, who was still giving Ed the pitch for making the move to New York.

"You'd only answer to me, Ed. The police commissioner and the mayor have agreed your special unit will be given a free rein. We want to create an Ironside unit like the one you now belong to. Only this would be a Brown unit. You've the tools to be on your own. Ironside has seen to that. It's time you consider leaving his office and joining ours. Now, I know I've given you much to think about and I'll not pretend the decision to leave Chief Ironside and San Francisco is an easy one, but I think you can see this would be a step up. You'll move up the ranks much faster here. I don't know what you make, money-wise; we will pay you considerably more in your new position. And, you'll be awarded your San Francisco seniority and vacation time."

Still, Ed said nothing. Vivian was beginning to become angry. How could he just sit there? The captain was offering exactly what he had in San Francisco; except in New York, he'd be Robert Ironside.

"Well, Ed. I'll leave you to consider my offer." He put out his hand and Ed shook it.

There was a knock on the door. Emerick called out, "Come in."

The door opened and a uniformed officer came in. "Captain, I'm here to give Sergeant Brown the tour."

"Thank you, Officer. Please wait outside. He'll be with you in a minute." After the young officer stepped outside, Captain Emerick returned his attention to Ed Brown. "I've arranged a tour of the department for you. I'd like you to see where your office would be. I don't know how spacious Chief Ironside's office is . . . "

"It's extremely spacious," Ed interrupted.

"Yes, well, I have no doubt your office will be even more so. Vivian, if you'd like to join Sergeant Brown, you're welcome to do so."

"Thank you, Captain."

He stood up, indicating the interview was over. Ed got up, shook the captain's hand once more, and headed for the door. He waited for Vivian to leave the office in front of him.

"Right this way, Sergeant," the young officer said. "My name is Officer Nichols. It's a thrill to meet you, Sergeant Brown. Everyone has heard of your boss."

Officer Nichols led them on a tour of the entire department. After a couple hours of meeting and greeting other police officers and being given a demonstration of their computer systems, the New York police officer took them down a hall. When they reached the office, he unlocked the door and said, "Your office, Sergeant."

Ed walked in the room. It was spacious, but Captain Emerick had no idea the amount of space Chief Ironside had. This office was smaller. It was decorated very conservatively. The chief had classy taste. Ed much preferred his taste to the person's who decorated this office.

The officer watched him. Brown wasn't even trying to hide his feelings. Officer Nichols had been told hiring Brown was a 'done deal.' It sure didn't look like it. He could tell the California detective didn't approve. "Of course, you'll be given a budget to make the office more to your taste."

Could they give him Chief Ironside's office . . . with Chief Ironside in it? Ed had seen enough. All he wanted to do was get out. "Thank you for your time, Officer Nichols," Ed said and headed for the door.

"We'll look forward to having you join the force, sir."

Brown walked out of the room, down the hall, and headed for the elevator. After pushing the button and waiting until the doors opened, he motioned for Vivian to step in. Neither of them spoke on the ride down to the main floor. When the doors opened, Ed again waited for Vivian to step out of the elevator in front of him. Once they were out on the street, Ed waved down a taxi. Vivian got in and slid across the seat. Ed got in beside her.

"Where to, buddy?" The cab driver asked.

Ed said nothing. "The View Restaurant and Lounge," Vivian said, speaking for him. Apparently, he wasn't going to direct the cab driver anywhere. Once again, both were silent as the driver drove them to their destination. When they arrived, Ed pulled out his wallet, paid the driver with a healthy tip, and got out of the cab.

Taking Vivian's hand, he helped her out of the vehicle. She withdrew her hand from his as soon as she was on the sidewalk. They walked in silence into the restaurant. Vivian requested a private area, which the owner was all too happy to provide for them. He was used to famous people coming into his establishment, and Vivian Page was an up and coming stage actress.

He led them to a private area. It was a revolving eatery with views of Times Square. The table was elegantly decorated and the lighting dim. Ed pulled out the chair for Vivian. As she sat down, he pushed the chair closer to the table.

"Would you like to start with a drink?" The waiter asked.

"Two glasses of Chardonnay, please," Vivian said.

Ed didn't say anything, although he wasn't happy she didn't even ask him if he wanted Chardonnay or something else. He tried to calm his anger at what she had done.

Vivian watched Ed while they waited for their drinks. She simply didn't understand him. He hadn't said a word since they left Police Headquarters. What was he thinking? Why didn't he talk about what happened with Captain Emerick? What in the world was the matter with him? She couldn't stand the silence any longer. "Alright, Ed, what in the hell is wrong? Are you going to talk to me or are you just going to sit there?"

Ed always tried to respect women. He'd been brought up that way. Then there was the chief. He was a fine example of a man who respected and treated women better than any man Ed knew. He tried to follow his example despite his anger with Vivian.

"Ed Brown, if you don't stop giving me the silent treatment and tell me what's wrong, I'm going to walk out of here!" Vivian crossed her arms across her chest.

Ed wasn't sure where to start. But, then the chief had taught him the best way was to come right out with it. "Why didn't you tell me you intended to set me up with an interview with the NYPD?"

"I wanted to surprise you, Ed," she said.

With sarcasm worthy of his boss, Ed exclaimed, "Well, you certainly did that. Did it occur to you at all to ask me if I'd be interested in working for the NYPD?"

Clearly upset with him, she snapped back at him. "I thought you'd at least be open to the idea. Why did you come here if you weren't interested in trying to work things out between us. I want us to be together. We can't do that if you remain in San Francisco. This job gives you an opportunity to have your own special crime unit and to get away from Chief Ironside. He has way too much influence over you, Ed."

The sergeant was trying very hard to contain his anger. Vivian was not making it easy. Still, Ed made the attempt to remain calm as he answered her accusations against his boss. "First of all, Viv, the reason Chief Ironside has influence over me is that he's taught me more about police work than the rest of the department put together. In case you haven't noticed, the chief has arrested and put more criminals behind bars than any police officer in the history of the department. He solves crimes no one else can. He's earned my respect . . .and I don't need to get away from him. Regardless of how long I work for him, he and I'll remain friends for the rest of our lives. I wouldn't be in the position to be considered for this job with the NYPD if it weren't for Chief Ironside. So, I'd appreciate it if you would stop treating him like he's a big dark cloud over my head." Ed started to say something else, but thought better of it. He said nothing more.

"Why did you come here, Ed?" Vivian asked quietly.

"Because you asked me to. And, I wanted to see you. Viv, I'd like nothing more than for things to work out between us. You have to stop pushing me and let me make my own decisions." He remained quiet for a moment before adding, "And, you could move to San Francisco too, you know. Why is it you are only considering that I move to New York?"

"Because I'm a stage actress. I hated making that movie. I love the stage, and to be a stage actress I have to be here, Ed. You know fully well you can be a police detective anywhere. Where will you get an opportunity like this anywhere else? Tell me that. Okay, maybe I'm a little hard on Chief Ironside. I didn't understand him when I met him and I still don't understand him. You have to realize this is a big step for me. You know how I feel about police and guns. I'm trying to accept and respect what you want to do for a living. By urging your interest in the NYPD, I'm trying to accept you as a cop. All I'm asking is you consider the job. Both of us will be giving a little. Can't you see that?" She used her fist to nudge his arm. "Huh? Huh?" She grinned at him.

All anger Ed felt dissipated immediately. She had the ability to do that when she wanted to. He smiled. "Yes, I can see it. But, I need time to think about it. Can you give me a little time to consider it?"

Vivian grinned. "Yes! I can give you time! Now, can we order? I'm starving. "

Ed waved at the waiter who headed directly for their table. He thought silently. Could he make the move to New York? Could he really leave a job he loved and the boss he respected above all others? He looked at Vivian. This woman had moved him like no other woman before her. Ed was torn between the two, and he couldn't see anyway to resolve it. He'd have to walk away from one or the other.

2

Robert Ironside spent the better part of the day going over all the files he could find on Frank Hunt. He had to find something to convince the parole board Hunt shouldn't be given an early parole. Hunt hadn't been rehabilitated. Apparently, he was a much better actor than he was a crook. He'd successfully fooled Warden Leydon, and that wasn't easy. Of all the people Ironside knew in the law enforcement and correctional system, Leydon read people better than anyone. The chief just couldn't understand why he couldn't tell Hunt had been a model prisoner for one reason only. That was to get out on early parole.

Ironside knew career criminals when he saw them. He'd been in this business long enough to have seen it all. Frank Hunt wasn't capable of rehabilitation. As soon as he was released, he'd go right back to crime. The chief had an obligation to protect the citizens of San Francisco. He'd taken an oath to do that, and it was one he took seriously. Someone would be a victim of crimes Hunt would undoubtedly commit if released.

"Chief, is there anything else you need before I go home?" Eve asked.

Ironside looked up. Quite often, he worked his officers late into the evening when there was an important case. Right now, that wasn't the case. With Ed in New York, he'd normally rely heavily on Eve. Besides old cases, there wasn't anything pressing at the moment. It was a good time to let her go home and relax. Although she'd just recently gotten back from Europe while Fran worked with his office on the Donnie Walker case, there wasn't any reason not to let her take some time to herself. It wouldn't be long and Commissioner Randall would dump another high profile case in his lap, and he'd be working his staff late into the evening to solve it.

"No, Eve. Go home and relax. I'll see you in the morning."

"Will you be in when I get here?"

"Probably not. I am going to attend the parole hearing for Frank Hunt."

Eve hesitated. She wondered if the chief wasn't being a bit hard on Hunt, yet his instincts were rarely wrong. "Listen, Chief, if you need help with the Hunt case, I can stay behind and help."

Ironside shook his head. Nothing Eve could do was going to have a bearing on the parole board's decision. His staff needed to take time off when the workload of the office allowed. "No, you go home and get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow."

Before she left, she asked, "Have you heard from Ed?"

The detective turned his chair toward her. "Why would I hear from him? He's on vacation. He's otherwise occupied."

Eve detected the slight sarcasm in his voice. Sarcasm was something her boss was well-known for. "Do I detect a bit of disapproval?" She asked, smiling.

"You do not," he answered. "Now, go home!"

Eve chuckled There'd been defiant disapproval with Ed's choice of companion. She walked up the ramp and headed out. Opening the door, she almost ran into Commissioner Randall. "Well, hello, Commissioner."

"Good evening, Eve. Is the boss letting you go home early?"

Eve glanced at her watch. "Actually, it's past quitting time now."

"At least it's not midnight. Have a good evening."

"You too, Commissioner." She smiled and left the office.

Dennis Randall came down the ramp and walked over to his top detective and friend. "Good evening, Bob."

"Dennis, this is twice in one day. What's the problem now?" Ironside wondered.

"You've such a suspicious nature. Has anyone ever told you that?" Randall asked.

"You tell me that all the time. Now, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

"Mayor Barr came to see me today."

Ironside waited for Randall to continue. When he remained silent, Ironside spoke up. "Are you going to tell me why I need to know that?"

"He wants you to do everything you can to stop Frank Hunt from being paroled."

Momentarily stunned, Ironside said, "Just this morning you told me to stay out of it."

"The mayor thinks you're right about Hunt. So he wants you to prevent him from being paroled."

Ironside looked directly at Randall. "I probably won't be able to stop it, Dennis."

"We know that, Bob. Just do the best you can."

"I always do," the chief replied. Ironside watched his boss. He could detect something else was on his mind. "All right Dennis, out with it. What are you holding back?"

The commissioner smiled. "You don't miss much do you?"

"I'm a detective, Dennis. My job is not to miss anything. Now, what the blazes is wrong?"

"The mayor got a call. The man wouldn't give his name, but his message was clear."

"And, that was?"

"Frank Hunt intends to kill you when he gets out of prison." When the expression on the chief's face didn't change, Randall said, "You don't seem surprised."

"Why would I be? I told you the man couldn't be rehabilitated, didn't I? Nor am I surprised I'm his number one target. He blames me for sending him to prison. Why is it these thugs can't see it's their own behavior which sends them to the slammer?"

"Because they justify everything they do in their minds. You know that, Bob."

Ironside frowned. "There's one thing that bothers me. That phone call could've only have been made from one place."

"The prison," Randall said.

"Which means the threat is credible."

"And that brings me to another point. The mayor is ordering police protection for you." Randall waited for what he knew was going to be an argument from his detective.

"I'm the police and I don't need a babysitter," Ironside growled.

"Hold on, Bob, before you go off half-cocked. All the mayor is saying is when you leave the building, you take Ed or Eve with you."

"Ed's in New York," Ironside told him.

"Then take Eve with you or call Carl. We just don't want you going out alone if Hunt gets back on the streets. You've a freehand to investigate and tail Hunt; do whatever you can to put him behind bars . . . if he gets out."

"He'll get out, Dennis. The writing is on the wall."

"But, you're going to the parole hearing to try to stop that from happening, aren't you?'

"Of course."

Randall stood up. Okay, I think we're on the same page. Keep me informed." He headed for the door, stopped, and turned back to Ironside. "Not leaving without an officer with you is an order, Bob, once Hunt is released. You do understand what an order is, don't you?"

"Yes, I give them every day. I just don't follow them well," Ironside replied.

Randall turned back toward the ramp, walked up it, and called over his shoulder, "Tell me something I don't already know."


	5. Chapter 5

Earthquake in San Francisco

Chapter 5

1

Mark pulled Chief Ironside's van up to the entrance of the prison. The guard didn't need to looked into the van to know who was inside. The chief's van was recognizable to just about anyone in the justice system.

"Hi, Chief," Norman Duncan said.

"Well, hello, Norman. How's the wife and kids," Ironside said pleasantly.

"Fine, sir. Thanks for asking. You're here for Frank Hunt's parole hearing, aren't you?"

"That's right."

"As much as I'd like to see you keep that man behind bars, the deck is stacked against you."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, word is, despite the fact everyone keeps calling him the model prisoner, it isn't true. I've heard he paid off the assistant warden, who convinced the warden he deserves to be paroled."

Ironside and Mark shared a glance before the chief turned back to the prison guard. "Do you have any proof of that?"

"No sir, but every guard that has dealt with Hunt says he's been involved with various things that have gone on in the prison, but since the other prisoners are scared of him, they won't talk."

That was exactly what Ironside was afraid of. Hunt was capable of what Norman was telling him. It only made Ironside more determined to stop Hunt from getting his parole. "Thanks for the tip, Norman."

"My pleasure chief. Not that it'll do any good, but I thought you should know before you go in there.

Ironside nodded at Mark. Sanger drove the van through the gates and parked it in a handicap spot in the parking lot. By the time he was out of the vehicle and walked around the other side, his boss was already coming down on the lift. Ironside and Sanger went through two security checks before they were allowed to continue to the hearing room. When they entered, the parole board was already seated behind the long, curved table. Two other tables were set up in front of them. Only one was marked. It had a name plate with Frank Hunt's name on it, and another with the name of Derwin Oles. Ironside remembered the man instantly. He was known for pleading the cases for prisoners trying to obtain parole. He had a reputation for being very good, and his record proved that. Oles successfully pleaded parole for over a hundred inmates. He was the lawyer for Hunt the last time he applied for parole. It was one of the few times he lost the debate. The chief suspected he was taking bribes from the men he defended at the parole hearings.

Warden Leydon stood up and walked over to Ironside. "I was hoping you'd reconsider, Robert."

Ironside had a great deal of respect for the warden, but this was one time Warden Leydon was just plain wrong. "I know what kind of man Frank Hunt is. You haven't rehabilitated him, Warden. He'll go back to what he was doing before I arrested him. Furthermore, you just may be turning a killer back on the streets."

"Come on, Robert, there's no proof to substantiate that accusation."

"There will be, Warden. I intend to find it," Ironside responded.

There wasn't anything the warden could say to change Robert Ironside's mind. Once he made it up, he was like a bulldog with a bone. Warden Leydon patted the detective on the shoulder and went back to his seat at the center of the curved table. Moments later, Frank Hunt came into the room with his lawyer. They took their place at the table behind their name plates.

Warden Leydon took immediate control of the hearing. "We're here today to determine if Frank Hunt should be granted his freedom. After serving 15 of his 20 years, Mister Hunt has applied for parole. Now, in the past he's done so, but this board didn't see fit to approve parole at the time. I'll now give the floor to Mister Derwin Oles, counsel for Mister Hunt."

"Thank you for the opportunity to speak on Mister Hunt's behalf," Oles began. "First of all, Mister Hunt truly regrets his actions of 15 years ago. The time he's spent in prison has given him the chance to reflect on the gravity of what he did that day. He not only knows it was illegal, he knows that it was morally wrong. His remorse is deep for the pain and suffering he's caused those who were in the bank at the time. If he could go back to that day right now, things would've been different. As his attorney, I feel he's paid his debt to society, and this time his parole should be granted to re-enter society in order to rebuild his life and become the productive member I know he can be. I urge the parole board to grant that parole." Derwin Oles sat back down.

"Thank you, Mister Oles," Warden Leydon said. He looked over at Robert Ironside and announced, "Chief Robert Ironside of the San Francisco Police Department is here today. It seems he doesn't share Mister Oles belief that Mister Hunt should be released. He's come here as the arresting officer to address the board. Chief, you may come forward and speak."

Ironside wheeled his chair and rested it beside the table where Frank Hunt was sitting. Looking at the board with his steely blue eyes, he said, "Warden Leydon is certainly correct when he states I don't agree Mister Oles' assessment of Mister Hunt's parole. I was there the day he robbed the bank. He showed no regard for the lives and safety of the employees and customers."

"Chief, this is nothing you haven't already told this parole board," Warden Leydon pointed out.

"Warden, I am repeating it because it is true, and this board needs to be reminded. Nothing has changed since the last request for parole. This man hasn't changed. If he is released from this institution, he'll go back to doing exactly what he was doing before I arrested him. You'll be responsible for turning this man on society. Therefore, you'd better think twice about granting parole to a man that has already proven himself to be violent and willing to point a gun at a fellow human being. Sooner or later, he'll do more than point the gun. He will kill someone, and you'll have to live with that. I suggest you make this decision wisely."

When Ironside finished, Leydon thanked him for coming and excused both him, Hunt and his lawyer. Ironside wheeled out of the conference room and into the hall where Mark Sanger was waiting for him. Hunt came out after him, along with his attorney. The chief noticed there seemed to be a disagreement between them. When they finished, Frank Hunt walked toward Ironside. Mark saw him coming and stepped in front of his boss off to his left.

"Relax, Sanger. I'm not a threat to Chief Ironside. Besides, I've heard he is pretty adapt at taking care of himself. I just want to speak with the chief. You're welcome to stay while I do so."

"You can count on it," Mark said.

Hunt turned his attention to Robert Ironside. "Chief, I know you think I haven't changed, but you are wrong. I just want to get out of here, get myself a decent, legitimate job, and start over. I don't have any hard feelings about you sending me up. You were just doing your job. I know that now. A man can change, Chief. I've changed. I'll present no further problem for you, the police department, or the city of San Francisco."

"You may have pulled the wool over the parole board's eyes, Mister Hunt, but I know better. You're a crook. If they release you, you'll go back to stealing, and killing. You're a killer, Hunt. You know it and I know it. I suspect the parole board will grant your parole, but I'm putting you on notice. I intend to prove you killed Zack Hill. The case has already been opened. If you're granted parole, you better enjoy your time out because I won't stop until I find the evidence to put you right back here where you belong."

The expression on Hunt's face changed and betrayed the hatred he had for the detective. "Go ahead, Ironside, you can't prove a thing. You couldn't before and you won't this time."

"I wouldn't bet the farm on that if I were you, Hunt. Then again, you wouldn't hesitate to bet the farm because; you would've stolen it in the first place," Ironside said.

"You have a big mouth, Ironside. Someone ought to shut it for you."

"You, Mister Hunt? You all ready plan to according to the call that came from a prison inmate. You can try, but you won't succeed. You're a stupid crook. You'll screw up when you try to it'll be one more nail in your coffin. You'll have an attempted murder charge to add to the murder charge."

"Your days are numbered, Ironside. Sooner or later someone is going to waste you. I look forward to that day," Hunt turned to walk away.

"It's your days that are numbered, Mister Hunt. This time you won't be able to fool anyone. You won't ever be granted parole again. You're finish. You're a crook and a stupid one at that," Ironside repeated.

Hunt turned back, his face red with anger, headed straight at Ironside. Mark Sanger stepped in front of his boss. Hunt ran into Mark, who shoved him back. Derwin Oles hurried over and got in between Hunt and Sanger.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Frank? The parole board is in there deciding whether to grant your parole, and you're fighting with the one man trying to keep you in here? I told you to stay away from him!"

"I can't stand that damn cop! He's going to get his!" Hunt shouted.

Oles looked at the conference room. He worried the scuffle might draw the attention of the parole board. Fortunately, no one came out. If the exchange was overheard, there wasn't an indication of it. Oles continued to push Hunt away from Ironside and Sanger. He wasn't worried about Ironside's reaction. The man was as cool as a cucumber. The bigger concern was Sanger. He'd do anything to protect the detective. If Hunt got into it with him, they were certain to draw the attention of the parole board inside the conference room, regardless of the thickness of the doors. Once he'd pushed Frank Hunt a good distance from Ironside, he started bringing him down from his agitated state. The two of them sat down on a bench as far away from Ironside as Oles could get them. He wanted no further altercations with the San Francisco detective.

The wait was about 15 minutes before Warden Leydon came out of the conference room. "Mister Hunt, will you join us please?"

Hunt and Oles stood up and followed him into the conference room. Ironside wasn't invited to join them. He knew what that meant. Hunt had been granted his parole. The chief shook his head. They were about to turn a killer back on society; a man who'd surely kill again. Ironside had his work cut out for him. He now had to find the evidence that Frank Hunt killed Zack Hill, and he was determined to do exactly that. Hunt wasn't going to remain on the streets for long if he'd anything to say about it.

A few minutes later, Warden Leydon came out of the conference room. He spotted Ironside and Sanger and walked over to them. "The parole board has granted Frank Hunt his parole."

Ironside shook his head in disgust. "You just turned a cold-blooded killer back on the streets."

"He's never been accused of murder, Robert."

"Only because we didn't find enough evidence for a conviction. He killed Zack Hill, and I intend to prove it."

"Let it go, Robert. Allow the man to start over," Leydon said.

"Start over? Doing what? He'll go right back to what he was doing. You and the parole board will have whoever he eventually kills on your head. Hopefully, I'll be able to put him right back here before that happens."

"Robert, he'll have his attorney file a complaint with the mayor's office against you for harassment. Oles stated after the parole was granted that you wouldn't leave Frank Hunt alone. You could be facing a charge."

"You think so? The mayor told the commissioner to order me to investigate the death of Zack Hill, Warden, and that is exactly what I intend to do." Warden Leydon shook his head and walked away.

The doors to the conference room opened. Frank Hunt and Derwin Oles came out. Hunt supported a huge grin. Oles said something to him and then walked away. Hunt looked over at Ironside. He couldn't resist a little gloating. He headed in the detective's direction.

When Ironside saw him coming toward him, he turned his chair around and said to Sanger, "Let's get out of here, Mark."

Hunt was not about to let the pig cop get away without a little gloating on his part. He hurried around Ironside's chair and blocked his path. Mark immediately walked around to defend the chief if it became necessary.

"Too bad, Ironside, you lost and I won," he said with a smirk.

"You won the battle, Mister Hunt, but you haven't won the war. I intend to see you put right back here behind bars. We both know you killed Zack Hill and I intend to prove it."

"Go ahead, my attorney has already discussed that with me. If you harass me, he'll contact the mayor's office, file a complaint with the police department, and sue the police if we have to. I don't think that'll be necessary. A call to the mayor's office will put a stop to your investigation." Hunt's smirk only grew bolder.

"You think so?" Ironside countered. "It was the mayor who ordered me to reopen the case in the first place. Go ahead and sue. It won't do you any good. There was evidence which pointed at you; I'm simply going to re-examine it. Enjoy your time on the outside, Mister Hunt. It won't last long. Let's go, Mark."

Sanger stepped behind his boss's chair and began pushing. When Hunt didn't move, Mark rammed the chair into his leg. That forced him to get out of the way.

"I intend to get you, Ironside. There isn't a cop alive who is going to stop me. You're a dead man," Hunt said, lowering his voice to make sure no one heard him except the detective and his aide.

Ironside turned his chair around to face Hunt. "I'll consider that a challenge; one I accept. You're going down and there's not a parole board anywhere that is going to stop it." He turned his chair around and began wheeling away. Instead of pushing the detective, Mark backed away from Hunt, prepared to protect Chief Ironside if the need arose.

2

Ed and Vivian held hands as they went through Sax Fifth Avenue. Under Ed's opposite arm, he held a box. It contained clothes Vivian had insisted buying for him. He'd fought her to no avail. The one thing Ed learned about her was when she made up her mind, he wasn't changing it. He finally gave up and let her purchase a casual shirt and a pair of slacks.

As they left the store, Vivian stopped, turned, and looked up into the brown eyes of the handsome detective. "I am going to spoil you rotten, Ed Brown. I'll make sure you never want to return to San Francisco again."

Ed looked away from her. "Viv, I promised to think about it. I didn't say I'd take the job with the New York Police Department."

"I know what you said, but I also know how much you love being with me. You'll choose me over Chief Ironside."

"This isn't a contest between you and the chief."

"Yes, it is. He's the reason you stay in that infernal city. I intend to break his hold on you," Vivian said.

Ed sighed. "The reason I live in San Francisco is that I love the city and I love what I do. Having the chief for a boss is an extra bonus. I don't think you understand that a position in Chief Ironside's office is coveted by detectives all over the city."

"I find that hard to believe. The man is insufferable," Vivian said, pouting. She regretted the statement as soon as she saw the look on Ed's face.

"Robert Ironside is not only my boss, Viv, he's my closest friend. I moved up in the department because of him. He's taught me more about detective work than everyone else put together. I'd appreciate it if you didn't make statements like that about him."

"I know what he's taught you; you keep reminding me," she said, rolling her eyes. She could tell he was holding back anger. Vivian couldn't understand why Ironside had such a hold over Ed. He certainly wasn't anyone she could admire. Why did Ed have so much respect for the cripple? She just didn't understand it. Vivian knew one thing for sure; she intended to break that hold. Ed Brown was staying here in New York with her. He wouldn't be returning to San Francisco and that insufferable cop.

Vivian had gotten him the interview with the NYPD, but that was only to lure him to New York City. Once she had him here, she'd lure him away from police work altogether. The profession was simply beneath him. She couldn't stay with him if he continued to be a cop. She loathed the profession. Vivian would go along with it for now, but only for now.


	6. Chapter 6

Earthquake in San Francisco

Chapter 6

1

Ironside awoke the next morning before his alarm went off. He hadn't slept well. The decision of the parole board was still on his mind. What a mistake it'd been on their part to turn Frank Hunt loose on the people of San Francisco. How could Hunt have pulled the wool over the eyes of every member of the parole board? They'd no idea what they'd done. Frank Hunt wasn't rehabilitated. Ironside was certain of that. He'd no choice but to find the evidence that Hunt had killed Zach Hill. It had to be out there. The problem was when he'd originally investigated the case, he'd not been able to prove Hunt killed Zack. Ironside, along with his staff would have to go over every bit of evidence and find the proof. Frank Hunt had to be returned to prison.

The detective threw back the covers, pulled his chair next to the bed, and lowered himself into it. Heading to the main room, Ironside wheeled into the bathroom. Mark Sanger was busy in the kitchen preparing breakfast. After showering and shaving, the detective returned to his bedroom. While he'd been gone, Mark set out a suit, shirt, tie, under clothes, socks, and shoes. It took Ironside much longer to dress himself than it did if Mark helped him. The chief sometimes had to fight the urge to just allow Mark to do it for him. He knew he was better off being as independent as possible.

Twenty minutes later, Ironside returned to the main room and wheeled up to the table. Sanger immediately brought him a bowl of oatmeal and a banana. Mark had already set the milk and sugar on the table.

"Where's the coffee?" Ironside asked. He could smell the aroma of the brew, and he was ready for a cup.

"Coming right up," Mark called out from the kitchen. He walked over to the table with the pot and one mug. After pouring the chief a cup of coffee, he set the pot on the table.

"Aren't you having breakfast?" He asked his aide.

"No. The commissioner called while you were in the shower. He said he wanted to talk to you privately when he got here. So, I thought it'd be a good time to gas up the van and get a tune up." Mark left his boss and went into his bedroom. He returned wearing a light gray jacket. "Where's the keys to the van?"

The chief looked up at Mark and barked, "You tell me. You have a set of keys."

"You couldn't find your set, so you borrowed mine. I'm just asking for my keys," Mark said with a smirk.

Ironside looked over his shoulder. "They're over there on the desk."

Mark walked over to his boss' desk. He shook his head and grinned. There on the roll top desk were two sets of keys. Obviously, the chief didn't check his desk when he'd asked for Mark's keys. Sanger picked up his keys, leaving the boss' set where he'd left them. Heading for the ramp, he called over his shoulder, "I'm going to pick up some groceries while I'm out. Do you need anything, Chief?"

"No thanks, Mark," he replied.

Sanger opened the door. A surprised Commissioner Randall walked in. "It must be time to have the elevator greased," he mumbled in response to Mark being so quick to open the door for him.

"Later, Chief," Mark called out.

"Later," Ironside responded. He turned and saw Dennis Randall coming down the ramp. "Well hello, Dennis. Mark said you wanted to talk to me. I hope you aren't here to tell me the mayor has changed his mind about investigating the murder of Zach Hill."

Randall said nothing. Heading into the kitchen, he pulled a mug down from the cupboard and joined Ironside at the table. He sat down beside the detective. Ironside took Randall's mug, picked up the coffee pot and was pouring the commissioner a cup of the brew.

"Who made the coffee?" Randall asked as he picked up the coffee mug.

"Mark made it, so drink it at your own risk, Dennis."

Randall slowly took a sip. "It's not bad."

"It's not good," Ironside retorted.

"Is there anyone who can make coffee you don't complain about?" Randall asked.

"Eve can. She's the only one around here who can make a decent cup of coffee. I don't think Mark will ever learn how to make it."

"Why don't you get one of those new fangled coffee pots with the pods that have the coffee inside them? You just drop it in and it makes a perfect cup of coffee, and there's no mess. The coffee grounds are contained in the pod and don't get into your coffee."

"Unless, of course, you like a stronger brew," Ironside said.

"Bob, they have all different strengths and kinds of coffee. You can find something that suits you, or would you rather just complain about Mark's coffee?"

"Dennis, is this really what you came here to discuss?" Ironside growled.

Randall smiled. "No, but it's nice to know I can get under your skin once in a while. You certainly get under mine often enough."

"Dennis!"

The commissioner waved his hand. "Okay, okay. We'll forget about the coffee, although I don't see anything wrong with Mark's coffee."

"Dennis!"

"Now you know how you drive me crazy at times. Anyway, I came to talk to you about another matter. The mayor insisted I come."

Ironside turned serious. "Oh, what about?"

"Ted got a call from the U.S. Geological Survey. They're telling us that earthquake we had the other day is only a prelude for a much bigger quake they believe is going to hit the San Francisco area," Randall reported.

"They have been predicting the big one for years. Why is this any different from before?"

"Because they claim the plates are still moving. It indicates there is a lot of pressure. They believe it'll only be relieved by a major earthquake," the commissioner explained.

"Don't tell me you and the mayor expect me to stop an earthquake?" Ironside said sarcastically.

"Why not? You can stop criminals; why not earthquakes?" Randall responded just as sarcastically.

Ironside chuckled. "Dennis, you're becoming terribly sarcastic."

The commissioner smiled. "You're a bad influence. Seriously, Bob, this could be disastrous."

"Earthquakes can be, but just what are you expecting me to do about it?"

"You're the head of the police force . . . "

Ironside interrupted him. "I'm a consultant to the commissioner; I'm not the head of the police force."

"Actually, if you read the changes the city council made; you're over everyone in the department except me."

Ironside feigned surprise. "You're over me?"

"Believe it or not, yes."

"That's a surprise, but I'll pretend you never told me," Ironside said with a grin.

Randall shook his head. "Can we be serious for one second?"

"Your second is up, Dennis."

"Bob!"

"Okay, Commissioner. You still haven't answered my question. What do you expect me to do about it?"

"Make sure all of our police are aware of a possible devastating quake. I want all of them ready to assist where ever they're needed. Quietly let them know what we've been told by the experts. I want the entire force put on alert."

"For how long?"

"What?"

"For how long, Dennis? Putting the force on alert means putting extra patrolmen on the streets as well as having everyone on standby to be called in at a moment's notice."

"Until further notice," Randall said. "The mayor and the city council have authorized it."

The chief was silent for a moment before saying, "They really believe a big earthquake is inevitable?"

"They do. As much as I hope it never happens, the experts are certain of it." The expression on the commissioner's face was grave.

"Alright, I will call in the chief of police and the chief of detectives and explain the situation to them."

Both Randall and Ironside sat at the table drinking coffee without saying anything further. When the commissioner finished the last of the coffee in his mug, he stood up. Looking down at Ironside, he said, "I hope they're wrong, or at least it's not as big as they're predicting . . . "

Before he could finish his thought, the room began to shake. Randall was thrown off his feet. He reached for the table to steady himself. Ironside was busy trying to control his wheelchair. It rolled one way and then the other. Books fell off the shelves, papers scattered and floated to the floor. The coffee mugs they were drinking from only moments ago slid from the table to the floor, smashing into pieces.

Thirty seconds seemed like an hour before the shaking stopped. Ironside reached for the phone which was displaced to the edge of the table. He dialed the main desk. "Have all units report as soon as they've had time to assess effects of that quake." He slammed down the phone.

Looking around the room, objects and papers had been shaken from shelves, desks, tables, and counters. Despite the mess it caused, the quake hadn't been as strong as the previous one. "That's the second quake in three days," Ironside said.

"We were told there'd be more before the plates really shift," Randall said. "I'd better get back to the Hall of Justice. The city council will be in a panic." Randall placed his hand on Ironside's shoulder and stood there for a moment.

"I know, Dennis, I know."

Randall nodded. He turned and headed for the door. "Keep in contact, Bob."

"I will," Ironside said as he watched Randall leave the office.

2

Ed never dreamed he could enjoy Vivian's company as much as he did, except for their difference in opinion of the police. It was going to be extremely hard to leave her and go back to San Francisco. He'd been in New York for three days now, and every day brought something new. Ed had already been to two plays on Broadway, visited some of the fanciest restaurants in the city, and met many Broadway stars. Vivian was parading him around her friends, giving them the impression they were most definitely a couple.

The actress introduced him to everyone, but she went out of her way to avoid the subject of his occupation. When it did come up, it was always less than pleasant. The sergeant was surprised people thought so little of the police. He knew he shouldn't be; he ran into it quite often in San Francisco. He supposed it was something he'd never get use to no matter where he was. Certainly, there were some bad cops out there, but most of those who served their perspective cities were dedicated officers whose job was to protect their citizens. He wondered how the mistrust of the police could be so wide spread. Unfortunately, one bad apple did seem to spoil the bunch as far as the people were concerned.

Vivian stirred in his arms. Ed looked at his watch. It was almost noon, and he'd been waiting for her to awaken. Brown was used to being up early. His boss quite often called his officers in early or worked them late at night when a major case was being investigated. Over the years, Ed had developed an internal clock that woke him quite early most mornings. Even when cases ran him and his fellow officers to exhaustion, it was rare when he'd sleep past 7:00 a.m. He was tempted to wake Vivian. Ed wanted to spend as much time as he could with her before returning to San Francisco.

She wanted him to stay in New York; she'd made that clear. Ed loved his job in San Francisco. He was a good cop. He had to be to work for Chief Ironside. The sergeant was aware his boss could be demanding and sometimes rather moody. And, the chief certainly was sarcastic at times. All of that didn't take away from the pride he had being selected by the chief to work with him. Could he leave all that? Would it be worth it to finally have a woman he loved in his life? Would he ever be able to find love putting in the hours he did working for Robert Ironside? His professional life was perfect or damn near as close to perfect it could get. But, was it enough? Wouldn't he like to come home to a woman instead of an empty apartment? The more he thought about it, the more the idea became appealing. Then Robert Ironside and the city of San Francisco entered his mind. The doubts gnawed at him.

As Vivian stirred, Ed looked down at her. Her eyes opened slowly. When she saw Ed, she smiled. "It's so nice waking and the first thing I see is that handsome face."

"You'll probably get tired of my face before long," Ed said with a smile.

"Never!" She bounced out of bed and glanced at the clock beside the bed. "Oh my, I didn't realize I'd slept this late."

"Of course you didn't," Ed said playfully. "You were sleeping. How could you know what time it was?"

Vivian laughed at him and dropped back down on the bed. Placing her hand on the side of his jaw, she leaned in and kissed him. "I could never get tired of this." After running her fingers through the hair on his chest, she darted out of the bed as fast as she did the first time. "Get up, Ed Brown. Are you going to sleep the day away?"

"I've been awake for hours. You're the one who sleeps until noon," Ed reminded her.

Heading in the direction of the bathroom, she called out over her shoulder. "I get the bathroom first."

"Great! That means I'll only get a cold shower and have about two seconds to take it," Brown quipped.

"It takes me a while to return to beautiful," she said as she turned and posed for him.

Ed smiled. "You don't have to return to beautiful. You're beautiful just the way you are."

She lifted her long hair on both sides of her head and continued to pose. "You must be kidding. Look at my hair!"

Ed laughed. "I like it mussed up."

She went into the bathroom and stuck her head back out. "Obviously, since you're the one responsible for this look." She continued teasing him.

"I like that look. Why are we in a hurry anyway? What have you got planned?"

"We're going on a picnic." He heard her call out from the bathroom."Sounds nice. Just you and me and nature."

He could hear the water running as she turned on the shower. "Just you, me, and a lot of very wealthy people."

Ed became instantly uncomfortable. He'd met quite a few of Vivian's friends. Most of them only seemed to tolerate him, but there were others whom he got the feeling looked down at him.

A few minutes later, Vivian came out of the bathroom in her robe. She was drying her hair with a towel. "Okay, your turn."

Rather, then head for the shower, Ed stood there wondering what Vivian was up to. "What about this picnic? Who are the people that'll be there," he asked her.

She stopped rubbing her hair with the towel. "Why do you ask?"

"Is there a reason I shouldn't?" Brown asked. As much as he enjoyed her company, he was not fond of some of the stuffy people she introduced to him.

"Of course not. I get the feeling you don't care for my friends," she said defensively. "So far, you haven't given them much of a chance to get to know you."

"Maybe that's because every time one of them finds out I'm a police officer, they start running cops down."

"Do you really expect anything different? After all, all you have to do is look at what cops do."

It was Ed's turn to become defensive. "Just exactly what's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm talking about police brutality. You can't pick up a newspaper and not read about it every day."

"Viv, have you ever thought about what kind of world we'd live in if there weren't police to keep order in our cities?" Ed asked her.

"There wouldn't be any trouble at all if the government would just take away all the guns, and that includes police as well," she argued.

"You can't possibly believe that."

"But, I do. Do you have any idea how many people have been shot and killed in the city by police?" She dropped the towel on the bed and walked over to the vanity. Sitting down, she picked up a brush and began running it through her damp hair.

"Did you ever think that the shootings by the police were justified?"

"There's no justification for shooting and killing one of our citizens," she snapped at him.

"Would you rather have the individual shoot and kill one of your citizens? Police don't use deadly force unless it's absolutely necessary."

Vivian dropped the brush on the vanity and turned around to face him. "You can't possibly believe that. It's the police that the citizens have to fear not the average Joe on the streets."

Brown didn't care for the direction the conversation was going. He came to New York to spend time with Vivian, and he'd prefer that the time was pleasant. He didn't want to spend it arguing with her over his occupation. Ed admitted to himself that her attitude toward what he did for a living was upsetting and disturbing. He remembered when she'd come to San Francisco, she'd shown a disdain for guns and police officers. He wondered how she'd feel if he constantly displayed that disdain for what she did for a living.

"Haven't you ever heard the expression 'If you outlaw guns, only the outlaws would have guns?"

"That's just something the gun rights people say to scare the rest of the people in this country."

Ed couldn't believe what he heard. "So, what you're saying is you want to eliminate my job?"

"You could do other things, Ed."

"Like what? Follow you around while the public adores you?" Ed said, regretting the remark as soon as he said it.

The expression on her face changed. "You don't take what I do for a living seriously."

"I could say the same for you, Viv."

"I don't live in a world where I shoot people," she said angrily.

"No, you live in a world where you pretend; you live in a fantasy world," Ed shot back.

Vivian had enough of the conversation. She didn't want to argue with him. In time, he'd come to see things her way. He could work for the NYPD until she convinced him to leave police work for good. Things would work out. They had to. She was determined to have Ed Brown, and on her terms.

Vivian walked over to the television and turned it on. Brown shook his head. "That's not going to help, Viv. We have to work out our differences." She ignored him and turned the channel to the news.

The image on the wide-screen television immediately caught his attention. It was his beloved San Francisco. A reporter was standing in front of the Hall of Justice.

"For the second time this week, the city of San Francisco has been shaken by an earthquake. Although the damage has been minor in both cases, experts are concerned these tremors are nothing compared to what the city may be facing. Earthquakes can't be predicted with very much certainty, and everyone in the city is becoming very nervous about the possibility of a much larger earthquake hitting the San Francisco area. Our sources tell us the city's mayor has ordered Police Commissioner Dennis Randall to place the Police Department on high alert. The commissioner was seen leaving Police Headquarters, where it's believed he went to see Chief Robert Ironside, who's the highest ranking police officer in the city. We urge all citizens not to panic, but to be aware if nothing else, the possibility of more quakes like the two we've just experienced. This is Desmond Grant reporting for KLS News."

Vivian looked over at Ed with concern. She knew what he was thinking. If Ironside was involved, he immediately would be impelled to return to San Francisco. She had to head that off. "I'm sure everything will be all right, Ed. You people have earthquakes all the time, and they have been predicting the big one for as long as I can remember."

"I know, but I should call the chief," he said and headed for the phone next to the bed.

Vivian hurried over to the night stand. She placed her hand over the phone just as he arrived. "Your chief is capable of handling it. You're on vacation. He'll call if he needs you. In the meantime, we've a picnic to attend."

She was right. If the chief needed him, he'd call. Ed wanted nothing more than to put the argument behind them and enjoy each other's company. "You're right. He'll call if he needs me. I'll get ready to go to the picnic."

"Ed," she said in that little girl voice. She put her arms around his waist.

"Yes."

"Let's not argue. I don't want to argue anymore. I just want us to enjoy our time together." She reached up with her hand and rubbed his chest.

He smiled down at her. "I don't want to argue either. Let's get ready and go to your picnic." He bent down and kissed her. Despite having her so close to him, his mind was on the city of San Francisco and Robert Ironside.


	7. Chapter 7

Earthquake in San Francisco

Chapter 7

1

The day Frank Hunt had been waiting for had finally come. He was going to get out of this stinking hole. Fifteen long years had been taken out of his life, and one man was responsible for it. He'd finally get his revenge against Robert Ironside. Nothing was going to stop him. He intended to kill the detective, but he had to plan it carefully. He certainly didn't want to come back to prison if he could avoid it. Nevertheless, he had every intention of killing him whether he returned to prison or not. Hunt had thought about nothing else for his entire 15 years of his incarceration.

Rolland Hubbard watched his friend as he packed his personal belongings. He was afraid that he had not gotten through to Frank. He could sense the slow burn Hunt was feeling. Roland walked over to his friend and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I sure am going to miss you. You're the only friend I've ever had in this joint."

Frank smiled. "I don't know how I could've tolerated this place without you. You've made it bearable. I'll miss you as well. I promise you I'll keep in touch. I'll visit you regularly."

Roland shook his head. "They'll never allow you to visit a convict in prison. You're going to be on parole. You're not allowed to associate with ex-cons or current ones, for that matter."

"I'll find a way."

"No, stay away from here and forget that I exist."

"This is Ironside's fault. Fifteen years of my life was taken away by that damn cop. I can't even choose my own friends."

"You aren't going to take my advice, are you?"

"He did this to me. I know you think I should forget it and go on with my life. The problem is I just can't do it. Ironside must pay for what he's done to me."

Roland stepped in front of Frank. Looking him straight in the eye, he warned him, "It's been tried many times before and Ironside remains unharmed. He's simply too well-protected by the police."

"No one is too well protected, not even Ironside. There's a way to get to him; I just have to find it."

"Everyone who has tried it ended up back here behind bars. I'm afraid the same thing will happen to you if you go ahead with your plan to kill him. Let it go, Frank. Forget Ironside and get the hell out of San Francisco so that you're not constantly reminded of him."

Staring off into space, Hunt shook his head. "I haven't thought about anything else for 15 years. It was the only thing that got me through every miserable day of my existence here." He looked at his friend and smiled. "That is except for you."

The conversation was cut off when one of the guards approached their cell. "Alright, Hunt, it's time. I'll take you to the entrance. You can catch your ride right outside the prison."

"There won't be anybody waiting for me. I'll call a cab."

The guard grinned. "Oh, but there is someone waiting for you. He's giving you special attention."

"Who'd be waiting to pick you up?" Roland asked.

With a frown on his face, Frank answered, "I've got a pretty good idea." He turned to the guard. "Get me the hell out of this stinking hole."

"Anxious, are we?" The guard said sarcastically with a grin on his face.

Frank ignored him and turned to the only friend he had. He put out his hand Roland shook it. "I'll be seeing you."

"Take care of yourself, Frank." He embraced his buddy and then let go.

Hunt took one last look at his friend, turned, and left the cell without looking back. The guard led him out of the cell block toward the entrance of the prison. They walked in silence. Frank had no desire to converse with a guard whom he hated almost as much as he did Ironside.

When they reached the entrance to the prison, the attending guard opened the doors. For the first time in 15 years, Frank looked upon the outside world. He wished they had given him sunglasses as the brilliance of the sunlight he wasn't used to seeing blinded him.

Parked just outside the entrance was the familiar van of Chief Robert T. Ironside. Mark Sanger got out of the van and met Frank Hunt as he approached.

"Get in, Mister Hunt," Ironside called out from inside the van.

The last thing Frank wanted to do was get in that van with the man he hated more than anyone else in the world. Yet, he didn't have a ride. He opened the passenger side of Ironside's van and climbed in.

"My lawyer would consider this harassment," Hunt accused Ironside.

"Who's harassing you? I came here to offer you a ride," the gruff detective said.

Mark got back into the van, started up the engine, and pulled the vehicle away from the prison entrance.

"Your parole officer has arranged for a small apartment for you. We'll drive you there."

"I expected to be met by my lawyer." Frank knew that wasn't true. His lawyer had contacted him and told him he wouldn't be picking him up. He was actually surprised that his parole officer hadn't shown up to take him to the apartment. Why did it have to be Ironside of all people? He wished the detective would just keep his mouth shut for the entire ride. Unfortunately, he knew that wasn't going to happen.

"He couldn't make it. I decided to step in for him."

"Why? So you could threaten me?"

"No," Ironside said. "I wanted to give you some friendly advice."

"You're not my idea of friendly, Ironside. Say what you have to and then do me a favor and shut up until we arrived at the apartment."

"My advice is that you confess to the murder of Zack Hill. Because if you don't, I intend to find the evidence to return you to prison. Both you and I know you killed him. You're a killer, Mister Hunt. You're going back to that prison as soon as I can prove it."

"You got a big mouth, Ironside. One of these days someone is going to shut it for you. You may live in a building full of cops, but you have to leave it at some point. When you do, I have no doubt somebody will be there to shut your big mouth for good."

"It won't be you because you are going to spend the rest of your life in prison where you belong," Ironside assured him.

Hunt was seething, but he kept it inside. He wasn't about to let Ironside see that he'd gotten to him. He'd enjoy nothing more than ending this cop's life. If only he had some kind of weapon on him right now, he'd take care of him and his aide.

"Did you do it yourself or did you have someone do it for you?" Ironside asked.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Did you kill Zack Hill yourself or did you have someone do it for you? I bet it was the latter.

You always had someone else do your dirty work. You didn't have the guts to do it yourself."

Frank turned quickly toward the detective, unable to control his anger any longer. "You're going to get yours, Ironside. It's only a matter of time."

"Is that a threat, Mister Hunt?"

"Of course not. It's a promise."

"Did you hear that, Mark? Mister Hunt just threaten me," Ironside said, looking at his aide.

"I heard," Mark replied.

"You heard nothing, Sanger," Hunt said. "Who's going to believe either one of you? They all know that your boss is obsessed with keeping me in prison. Hell, picking me up and badgering me is harassment. I intend to complain to my parole officer. I might even file a complaint with the San Francisco Police Department."

"Drop by my office and I'll be happy to provide you with paperwork," Ironside said.

Mark pulled the van to a stop in front of an apartment building. "This is where you get out, Hunt."

Frank opened the passenger door. He hesitated only long enough to address Ironside. "Your days are numbered." He got out of the van and walked into the apartment building.

After Hunt disappeared inside, Mark turned around and looked at his boss. "Chief, do you think it was a good idea to taunt him like that?"

"I intend to force him to make a move, Mark," Ironside explained. "I don't want a killer out on the streets any longer than necessary. If he attempts to kill me, it'll put him back in prison for the rest of his life. He won't get out again."

"So you intend to make yourself a target?"

"Oh hell, Mark, I'm already a target. I intend to see to it that he's informed exactly where we are with this investigation. The closer we get, the more imperative it'll be for him to take me out. I intend to be ready when he does that."

"I don't like you setting yourself up this way," Sanger told him.

"It's my neck," Ironside reminded him.

"Yeah, but it's my neck too since I'm always with you."

"I told you the work would be interesting." Ironside grinned.

"Yeah," Mark said.

2

Roland Hubbard felt lost for the first time in all the years he had been in prison. Frank Hunt had always been there to talk to. Now, he was completely alone. Soon, they'd give him a new cell mate. Roland didn't believe he would ever find a friend like Frank. Without him, life in the prison would become unbearable. The only option he could think of was to escape. Was it possible to escape from the prison? It had been done before, but the prisoners were always captured just outside the walls. Was he smart enough to plan an escape?

He decided if he were going to do it, it would have to be before he was assigned another cellmate. If he could get out of the prison, maybe he could stop Frank from killing Ironside. On the other hand, the more he thought about it, maybe Frank was right. Ironside deserved to die. Frank was not the only man the cop had put behind bars.

He too was in the prison because of Robert Ironside. Roland had nothing to lose. He would be here for the rest of his life unless he found a way to escape. But Frank had a real chance at life. As much as he would like to see Ironside dead, he cared more about Frank. He didn't want to see him end up back in this stinking prison. Frank was smart. He could do anything in life he wanted to do. He was blinded by his hatred for the detective, although he couldn't blame him.

If he could escape, maybe he could kill Ironside for Frank. After all, he already had a life sentence. Maybe he should've thought about escape while Frank was still here. He had the brains and the know-how to figure out how to escape. Roland didn't care what happened to him, but he did care what happened to Frank. He had to help his buddy see that Ironside was not worth it. If you wanted him dead, Roland would do it for him.

He started thinking about where the prison was weak. He believed the guards were that weakness. Roland had heard there'd been three guards who'd left the employ of the prison. That meant no one would be that familiar with the new guards who were hired. If he could overtake one of them and remove their uniform, he might be able to get past the other guards. Roland had to find out exactly when the new guards would start. That was when he would make his move.

3

Frank could not believe the stinking hole his parole officer and lawyer had secured for him. It was a two-room apartment. The living room, bedroom, and kitchen were combined. The bathroom didn't even have a door. How were any of his guests supposed to use the bathroom when they couldn't even close a door?

The carpet was so worn out there were small holes throughout it. The curtains on the only window in the apartment were nothing but rags.

The bed came out of the wall. Frank pulled it down to discover it was no different from sleeping on a cot. The mattress was so thin, it could hardly be called a mattress. The springs poked through it in some places. He couldn't help but wonder if Ironside had a hand in choosing his living quarters.

His parole officer had gotten him a job pumping gas at a gas station for minimum wage. Part of that money would go to pay for the dump he was expected to live in. He had been told that the price of food had more than doubled since before he went to prison. How was he supposed to even feed himself on the money he would make at the gas station?

He had far better accommodations in prison. At least, he could sleep in a halfway decent bed. The food certainly wasn't great, but it was definitely better than anything he could cook. He certainly wouldn't make enough money to eat out on a regular basis.

All of this was unacceptable. He had no intention of being in this dump for very long. As soon as he was able to kill Ironside, he would leave San Francisco and head for the Mexican border. At least down there, he would stand a chance of being able to live his life the way he wanted to. There was so much corruption in Mexico, he would be right at home. But first, he had to kill that damn cop.

Frank left the apartment, went outside, and flag down a taxi cab. After telling the driver to take him to Police Headquarters, he sat back and dreamed of watching Ironside take his last breath.

It had seemed like no more than a few seconds and the driver told him they'd arrived at Police Headquarters. Frank paid him and got out of the taxi.

He stood across the street from the building and looked up at the top floor where he knew Ironside's office was located. If only he had a gun in his possession, he could go up there right now and shoot the bastard dead. It would almost be worth going back to prison. However, he would be patient and figure out a way to get away with the murder of Robert Ironside.

Crossing the street, he headed for the police garage where the cop parked his van. Frank knew there was a back elevator that went up to the detective's floor.

He realized that he would have to go through the duty entrance where all the police officers reported for work. Willing to take the chance of being seen, he headed for that entrance. He was surprised to find it was actually pretty deserted. There was one cop in a room behind a counter. He stood back and watched a couple officers walk up to him. They were handed keys. Frank watched as they headed for two police cruisers, unlocked them, and got in. Moments later, they drove out of the police garage.

Frank waited until the officer behind the counter turned his back, and he passed by him unnoticed. Keeping an eye out for other police officers, he headed to the end of the garage where he knew Ironside's van was parked. The elevator to his floor had to be located in the same area. They wouldn't expect the crippled to travel very far to the elevator, especially if he were alone.

As he reached the end of the isle, he spotted a van parked in a spot marked with his name. Frank walked over and looked into the window of the vehicle. There wasn't any doubt it belonged to Ironside. He could see the lift that the detective used to get his wheelchair in and out of the van.

Looking over at the building, he spotted an elevator. It definitely had to be the one Ironside used to get to the top floor of Police Headquarters where his office was located.

Frank looked around to make sure there were no police officers anywhere in sight. He did not want to be caught checking out the elevator. If he were recognized, it could present a major problem for him. After he was certain that there wasn't anybody around, he hurried over to the elevator. To his disappointment, he saw a panel that required a key code in order to open the doors of the elevator.

Ironside was a coward. Not only did he live in a building full of cops, he made sure no one could reach his office without knowing the code to the elevator. It would not stop Frank. He would figure out a way to get past it.

At first, he thought about waiting until Ironside was out in public. He found it far more satisfying to kill him right in his own office. He would prove to the cripple that not even a building full of cops and an elevator with a key code could keep him safe. Furthermore, he would go right out the front door past the entire police force. Then he would leave San Francisco behind him for good. The thought of leaving the city that Ironside loved so much gave him some comfort, but not the kind of comfort killing that damn detective would give him.

Hunt had been concentrating so hard on how to get to Ironside, he did not hear the vehicle that pulled in and parked beside the detective's van. He had discovered what he wanted to know. It was time he got out of the garage. When he turned around, Lieutenant Carl Reese was standing directly in front of him.

"Well, hello, Frank," Lieutenant Carl Reese said. "What are you doing here? You wouldn't be here to try to harm the chief, would you?"

"Of course not. I came to pick up the papers to file a complaint. Ironside said I could come to his office to get them."

Taking Hunt by the arm, Carl said, "Then by all means, come on up to the chief's office with me."

Seeing no way to get out of it, Hunt watched as Carl keyed in the code to the elevator. The doors opened and Reese pushed him inside. The last thing Frank wanted to do was to see Ironside so soon after being picked up at the prison.


	8. Chapter 8

Earthquake in San Francisco

Chapter 8

1

Vivian Page could tell that Ed was bored. She wished she'd never turned that television on. Ever since they'd seen what was going on in San Francisco, Ed was distant with her. She could tell his mind was on his boss and the Golden Gate city. Why anybody would live in an area that could have devastating earthquakes was incomprehensible to her. Then again, if San Francisco fell into the ocean, she could have Ed to herself.

They were in the same penthouse apartment, and she hadn't seen him for over two hours. She could hear the faint sound of the television in her bedroom. Ed was surfing the channels trying to find a news report on San Francisco. If they were to be together, he had to forget about San Francisco and everybody in the city. After all, New York was just a bigger San Francisco . . . without the earthquakes.

Vivian had an idea. If she could get him involved in some police work here in New York, he wouldn't have time to think about what was going on with his boss.

The actress walked over to the phone, picked up the receiver and dialed the New York Police department. She was determined to get Ed away from Ironside and San Francisco. What a better way than to immerse him in a case in New York.

"Captain Emerick," the detective announced himself.

"JC, it's Vivian."

The detective smiled at the sound of her voice. He liked her from the moment he met her. Despite there being a bit of an age difference, he had considered asking her for dinner. Unfortunately, she was smitten with the San Francisco detective. JC didn't believe for a minute that Ed Brown wanted to come to New York and join New York's finest. In fact, he believed the entire idea was Vivian's. She seemed determined to bring the California law officer to New York. As much as he'd love to have him in the department, he didn't think it would ever happen.

"Hello, Vivian. It's so nice to hear from you. How's Sergeant Brown?"

"Well, that's why I'm calling you. Have you seen what's going on in San Francisco?"

"You mean the earthquakes, of course?"

"Yes, that's what I mean. Ever since Ed saw it on the television, he's been moping around here. I've tried to convince him Chief Ironside can handle whatever is happening in the city. I think Ed is thinking about going back to San Francisco to help his chief."

"I'm not surprised. I got the impression that he really wasn't interested in joining the department here."

"I believe he would be very happy here," Vivian lied, "He has indicated he's interested in the position in the New York Police Department."

Surprised to hear this, Captain Emerick was encouraged. He certainly would love to have Brown in his department. "But, if that's the case, then why is he considering going back to San Francisco?"

"He's just worried about his chief. He needs a distraction. I was wondering if there's any way you could get him involved in a case here?"

Captain Emerick thought about it. He was even more anxious than Vivian was to bring Sergeant Brown to New York. She might have something there at that. If he could get him involved, he might find New York City would be more to his taste. There was so much going on and so many cases to solve. "I think it could be arranged. I could give him a case to solve on his own and assign some officers to assist him. He'd be in charge, of course."

"Excellent! I was hoping you'd say that. How soon can you arrange it?" Vivian asked excitedly.

"Almost right away. There's no lack of crime in New York as you know. Give me an hour and I'll find a case that I think he can immerse himself in. That should take care of his homesickness."

"Then you'll call back shortly?"

"I will just as soon as I can pick out something I believe he can become hooked on."

"You're a lifesaver, JC. I won't forget this."

JC wished she was as obsessed with him as she was with Ed Brown. If this didn't work, then maybe he stood a chance with her. He couldn't believe he was trying to help her keep Ed Brown in New York. He supposed that either way he would win. If Brown stayed, he would gain a superior officer. If he left, he just might have a chance with Vivian. Certainly, she'd realize a relationship with Ed Brown was impossible if he refused to leave San Francisco.

He gave her a halfhearted laugh. "Of course you won't forget it. I won't let you."

"We'll have to have lunch sometime when your schedule isn't so busy," she suggested.

JC smiled. "I'd like that, Vivian. I really would."

"Then it's a date. We'll talk about it later." Vivian hung up the phone. She wasn't blind. JC was interested in her and she knew it. The last thing she wanted was to get involved with another cop. She intended to get Ed Brown to leave the profession. Vivian wasn't the least bit interested in JC Emerick. He was another career police officer who'd never give up the profession. Still, she knew she could manipulate him into helping her by using his attraction to her. Vivian was used to getting what she wanted, and she wanted Ed Brown.

2

The elevator ride up to Ironside's office seemed like it took forever. Frank Hunt wasn't looking forward to seeing the detective. In fact, he couldn't think of anyone he'd like to see less. He should've been more careful. Lieutenant Reese must've arrived in a vehicle. Yet, he didn't even hear the lieutenant drive up. It wasn't often he was caught off guard.

The elevator stopped and the doors opened. Frank Hunt had never been in Ironside's office. Despite that fact, he knew the detective's office was to the left. The ramp leading up to the door was a dead giveaway.

"Look, Lieutenant, Ironside is probably busy. Just have him mail the paperwork to me. I don't want to disturb him." He turned to walk back to the elevator, but Reese grabbed his arm.

"The chief is always busy. That doesn't mean he can't see people who stop in the office. He'll make sure that you get the complaint papers that you want." Reese pushed him gently up the ramp. He certainly didn't want to be accused of police brutality.

Opening the door to the chief's office, Reese indicated for Hunt to enter in front of him. Not having any other choice, Frank walked into the detective's office.

"Look who I found hanging around the elevator in the police garage," Carl told Ironside.

Ironside turned his chair toward his guest. "Well, Mister Hunt, I wasn't expecting to see you so soon. I trust you're completely disappointed and frustrated to find a key-less entry into the elevator."

"Not at all. You told me I could stop by and pick up the paperwork to file a complaint."

"Why didn't you come through the front entrance like everyone else?" Ironside growled.

"I thought the back entrance would be faster."

"What you really mean is that you thought you could sneak up on the chief," Mark said.

"That's ridiculous. I just want the paperwork to file a complaint."

"You could have gotten that downstairs," Ironside pointed out.

"I came here because you said you'd give me the paperwork. Now, are you going to give it to me or not?" Hunt snarled right back at him.

"Eve, get Mister Hunt the paperwork to file a complaint against the police department."

Officer Whitfield went to the computer and ran off a copy of a complaint form. She took it off the printer, walked over to Hunt, and handed it to him.

"Is there anything else, Mister Hunt?" Ironside demanded.

"No, that's it."

The chief noticed that Frank Hunt was looking around the room, taking in everything about the layout. "Would you like a guided tour?" The detective snarled.

Upset with himself for being caught casing the room, he tried to hide it. "No thanks, I couldn't care less how you live. Unless I'm under arrest, I'm leaving."

"You're the one that came here. We didn't come after you, so what makes you think you'd be under arrest?" Ironside asked. "If there's nothing else, get out, Mr Hunt."

"I thought this was a public office."

"It's also my home," Ironside said gruffly, "and you're not welcome. If you've no further business with the police, you can leave. And the next time, use the front entrance. The back entrance is for police personnel only."

"There won't be any next time." Frank turned around, walked up the ramp, and left the office.

"What was he doing down there?" Ironside asked Reese.

"It looked to me like he was checking out the key-less entry. Maybe he was looking for a way around it."

"Eve, have it checked just in case he's tampered with it. And have the code changed."

"Yes, Chief," Whitfield responded. She left the office to carry out his orders.

"Chief, I think we should place officers outside your door for your protection," Carl suggested.

Ironside went back to his paperwork. "No, Carl. That was proof our man is already getting nervous. How much do you want to bet he doesn't file a complaint with the police department? He knows it won't go anywhere."

"But he could be planning to kill you. I heard he threatened to do so more than once."

"He's not going to try it here. If he knows anything at all about key-less entries, he'll know the one on the elevator is very sophisticated, and he'll not be able to get past it. No, Carl, when he makes the attempt, he'll lure me out of this office. Despite having threaten me in front of people, he doesn't want witnesses to a murder."

"You're the boss," Carl said.

"It'd be nice if everyone around here would remember that more often."

"So why did you call me up here? Is there something you want me to do?" Carl asked him.

"You and I are going to call on the employees at the bank where Frank Hunt staged his robbery. I've a hunch he's going to follow us. I want him to know that I'm investigating the murder of Zach Hill."

"You already told him that," Mark said.

"I want him to see it, Mark. I want him to start sweating. He'll know everything we know. I'm going to force him to make a move. He belongs in prison and I've every intention of seeing that he goes back there.

3

Lying on the bed watching television, Ed spent the last 2 hours surfing the channels on the television looking for news on the earthquakes in San Francisco. He felt guilty for being in New York when there was a possible crisis brewing in his beloved city. The chief probably needed his help, and he was here in New York on a vacation. All he could think about was the doomed relationship he had with Vivian. He loved her, but he couldn't see a future with her. She wasn't going to move to California, and he couldn't see himself moving to New York. How could they possibly work it out? Neither of them were willing to give in.

The door to the bedroom opened and Vivian walked in. "Ed, there is a call for you."

"The chief?" Ed asked.

Just like him. He receives a phone call and immediately he thinks it is his chief. Vivian just couldn't understand the hold Robert Ironside had over Ed Brown. Keeping the irritation out of her voice, Vivian answered, No, it's Captain Emerick."

"Vivian, I don't want to be pressured. If I'm to come to a decision to move to New York, it has to be my decision."

"He's not calling you to pressure you. He says he has a problem, and he wants to enlist your help."

Brown hesitated for a moment, but then reached for the phone. "Sergeant Brown."

"Ed, I thought you're on vacation. Are you always this formal?" Emerick asked.

"Habit, I guess," Ed said. "Vivian said you wanted my help with something?"

"Yes, I have a case that my detectives haven't been able to solve. I know you're only going to be here for a couple of weeks, but I'd appreciate it if you'd take a look at it and see if you could help them out. You, of course, would be in charge, and they'll assist you while you're here. When you go back to San Francisco, hopefully they'll have learned something and will be able to handle the case once you are gone."

Ed hadn't expected to work on his vacation. He couldn't help but wonder if this was something that had been arranged between Emerick and Vivian. "What kind of case is it?"

"It's a murder case, Ed. My detectives have not made any headway into the investigation.

"Well, I suppose I could take a look at it, but I'll have to discuss it with Vivian first."

"I already did. It took me quite a while to convince her to let me borrow you. She finally decided that it'd be a good experience of what she would face in the future when you come to work for us."

"All right, when did you want me to start?"

"Right away, if possible. I'm going to send you a New York police cruiser. It'll be at your disposal. After my drivers drop it off, please come directly to the police station."

"I'll be there," Brown told him. He hung up the phone and turned around to face Vivian. "He said this was all right with you."

She went to him and put her arms around his waist. "I told him you can't work any more than 8 hours a day. You're mine after that. At first, I was against it. The more I thought about it, it might give you an idea what your job would be here. It could help you to make your decision. Although, I admit I don't like giving up my time with you."

"Hopefully, all I'll have to do is point them in the right direction. It might not be a bad idea at that. You're right, it could help me decide whether I want to take the job. We have a little time before the police cruiser gets here. What would you like to do?"

Vivian pushed him down on the bed. "What do you think I would like to do?" She climbed on top of him, lowered her lips to him, and began kissing him. Vivian hoped that this would work. Otherwise, she'd have to find another way to manipulate him into moving to New York.

4

Mark drove the van through the streets of San Francisco. Ironside kept glancing out the back windows of the van. After a few minutes, Carl noticed the chief seemed to be occupied with something behind them.

"What's the matter, Chief? Do we have a tail?" Lieutenant Reese asked the detective.

"I hope so. I want Hunt to know I'm serious about investigating Zack's murder."

"Have you spotted any tail?" Carl asked.

"The same taxi has been behind us since we pulled away from headquarters," Mark answered for his boss.

Ironside grinned. "You're going to make a fine detective someday."

"And I have told you I'm going to be a lawyer."

"You'll change your mind," Ironside said with confidence.

Mark pulled the van in front of the bank and parked in the handicap parking spot. As he shut off the engine and got out of the van, Ironside was already in the lift and being lowered to the sidewalk.

"Where's the taxi?" Ironside asked.

"It stopped down the street, Chief," Carl informed him.

"Good, Mister Hunt knows we're here." Mark stepped behind his chair and wheeled his boss to the entrance of the bank. Carl opened the door, and Mark pushed the chief inside.

A gray-haired man who had to be close to retirement approached Chief Ironside. "Hello Chief, I was told you were coming in to speak with the employees who were working the day that Frank Hunt robbed the bank 15 years ago. I must warn you most of them are no longer with us. As you know, bank personnel turns over quite often."

"I'm aware of that," Ironside said. "How many employees are still here?"

"I'm still here, of course. My name, by the way is David Smothers. Our vice president, Dorothy Mullins is also still here. Other than us, everyone else has moved on. I can get you a list of the employees that were here that day, but I doubt the addresses would be much use to you."

"Don't worry about that. If they're still in San Francisco, we'll find them."

"All right then, why don't we talk in my office. Right this way." He led them past the tellers into an office in the back of the bank. Mark remained outside the man's office. After Smothers seated himself behind his desk, he asked, "Now, what can I do for you?"

"How much of what happened that day can you remember?" Ironside asked.

"Actually, Chief, I was in my office when it happened. I literally didn't even know about it until it was almost over."

"What can you tell me about Zack Hill?"

"Well, he was a good employee. At least, up until he helped the bank robbers. We had no reason to believe he'd be involved in anything like that. He was good at his job. However, I think our vice president, Dorothy Mullins, would be able to shed more light on it then I would. She was here at the time and was a teller on the line."

She was definitely someone Ironside wanted to speak to. "Can you ask her to come in here? I'd like to talk to her."

"Absolutely." He picked up the intercom and over the speaker system asked Dorothy Mullins to report to his office. Within a couple minutes, there was a knock on the door. "Come in, Dorothy."

The door opened and a woman in her mid 40s walked in. She smiled at Ironside. "Chief, I follow your cases in the paper and on television all the time."

"Sit down, Dorothy. Chief Ironside would like to speak with you."

She sat down in the only remaining chair in the office. "Well, if I can help you, I certainly will. What's this all about?"

"Mister Smothers tells us that you were on the teller line 15 years ago when Frank Hunt robbed the bank."

"That's right. I was. It's probably the most frightening thing I've ever experienced working in the financial business."

"Do you remember Zack Hill?" Ironside asked.

"Oh, absolutely. In fact, I dated him."

"Were you dating him at the time of the robbery?" Ironside inquired.

"Yes, I was. He was a very nice young man. I still find it hard to believe that he had anything to do with helping the bank robbers. He was always very gentle with me."

"Did he ever give you any idea that he was having financial problems?"

"Yes, he did. But, he was dealing with it."

"Were you with him at any time on the day of his murder?" Ironside asked.

The question made her very uncomfortable and it was visibly obvious.

"We're not accusing you of anything, Miss Mullins. We're just trying to find out exactly what happened that day" Carl said.

"We came to work together. He picked me up."

"Did he seem nervous?" Ironside asked her.

"I don't understand. This was 15 years ago. Why are you asking about it now? No one seemed to care about who killed Zack."

"The investigation has been reopened. Whatever help you can give us might help us solve his murder," Ironside explained.

"Well, okay then. Yes, he seemed very nervous that morning."

"Had he ever mentioned the name Frank Hunt?" Carl inquired.

"He never mentioned the last name. He did mention the name Frank several times."

"Did you ever meet him, Frank, that is?" Ironside asked.

"No, I never did. He talked about him often enough that I suggested to him to invite him to dinner. He was adamantly against it."

"Did he say anything to you at all after the bank was robbed?" Ironside continued his questioning.

"He mumbled something one time. I thought he said he was afraid for his life. When I questioned him about it, he denied that he said it," she answered.

"Miss Mullins, I know all these questions were asked of you years ago, but they're very important now. One of my detectives asked you if you had anything in your possession that belong to Zack Hill. I was told you said no. I will ask you that question again. Do you have anything in your possession or know of anything that he may have placed somewhere, possibly an insurance policy, in other words, knowledge that could've protected his life?"

"No I don't have anything that belonged to him," she said.

"Not a shoe box, a file, or a key to a safety deposit box?" Ironside pushed her to search her memory.

"No, I told you . . . " She stopped in mid-sentence and said nothing more.

"What is it? Do you remember something?"

"He did have a safety deposit box. I remember that because he gave me an envelope to put in it. But, no one would have paid on a safety deposit box after his death. The bank would have informed police. If there had been something in the box that could help you, I'm sure you would have been informed."

Ironside wasn't interested in a safety deposit box Zach may have had. She was right, the bank had closed it and informed the police. Nothing in it was any help in solving his murder. However, if he had given her something to put in her safety deposit box, the police may not have learned of it. "Did you, by any chance, remove anything from his deposit box for him?"

"I didn't have a key to his deposit box, Chief Ironside. I have no idea what he kept in it."

"All right, Miss Mullins. Did you have one at the time?"

"Why yes, I did. Still do, but I haven't been in it in years. I simply pay the rental yearly. It has my family heirlooms in there. There just isn't any reason for me to open it. I got it for safekeeping of those items."

"Did Zack have a key to that safety deposit box?" Ironside asked her.

"No, I never gave him a key to the box."

"Where did you keep that key?"

"In my top right-hand desk drawer."

"Was there a lock on that desk drawer?" Carl interrupted.

"No, no lock. What are you getting at?"

Ironside took back control of the conversation from Carl. "If there wasn't a lock on the drawer, then there's a chance that Zack may have taken the key and placed something in your safety deposit box."

"I don't think he knew where the key was. He never indicated at any time that he was interested in the box."

"I think it's worth checking," Ironside said.

"Well, all right, if you think so. The key is still in the top right-hand drawer of my desk."

Ironside turned his attention back to the bank president. "Mr. Smothers, would it be possible to excuse Miss Mullins for a couple hours? I would like to go get that key and have her check her safety deposit box."

"I think we could do without her for that long," Smothers agreed.

"I thank you for your time. Miss Mullins, you can ride with us. When we're done, we'll bring you back here."

The chief wheeled his chair for the door. Lieutenant Reese gestured for Dorothy Mullins to follow the detective. Reese was the last one out of the office. Mark stood up from the chair he was occupying when the chief exited the office. Stepping behind his wheelchair, he began pushing him toward the bank's front door.

After all of them were seated back in the van, Ironside asked Miss Mullins for her address. As soon as she gave it to him, he looked at his aide and said, "You got that, Mark?"

"I got it," the young man answered and turned the vehicle around to head for Mullins' apartment.


	9. Chapter 9

Earthquake in San Francisco

Chapter 9

1

Mark Sanger pulled the van in front of Dorothy Mullins' home. Ironside wheeled his chair into the lift and pressed the button. By the time Mark went around to the other side, Carl already assisted Mullins out of the van, and Ironside was coming down in the lift. Mark stepped in behind the chief's chair and wheeled him toward the front door of her home. Mullins unlocked the door and Ironside, Carl, and Mark followed her in.

"Where's the desk you keep your safety box key in?" Ironside asked her.

"In the study." Dorothy led them down the hall to her study. She went in the room with Ironside directly behind her. He grabbed the door frame on both sides and pulled his wheelchair inside. Mark and Carl followed him in.

Dorothy crossed the room and walked over to the desk. She did not bother with any drawer but the top right-hand drawer. Opening it, she pulled out a small manila envelope and handed it to Ironside. "The key to my box is inside that envelope.

Chief Ironside broke the seal on the envelope and reached inside. He looked up at Carl. "The key isn't here. Is there anywhere else it could be?"

"No. I always kept it right in that envelope," she answered.

The detective looked back at the desk. "Check the rest of the drawers, Miss Mullins."

"I told you, it couldn't be anywhere else. I was always careful to put it right back in that envelope."

"Please check anyway."

Mullins shrugged and began going through her desk drawers. After a thorough search, she did not locate the key. She turned and looked at Ironside shaking her head.

Ironside blew out a breath. "Miss Mullins, I'm going to ask for your permission to have the box drilled open. You'd have to do it eventually anyway since the key appears to be lost."

"All right, Chief Ironside. I don't have a problem with it."

"Okay, let's head back to the bank," Ironside said, wheeling out of the study.

When they arrived back at the van, Mark started it up and drove them back to the bank. David Smothers met them at the door. "I wasn't expecting you so soon."

"Mister Smothers, Miss Mullins has given us permission to have the box drilled open."

"You didn't find the key" he asked.

Ironside hated when people asked him a question that had an obvious answer. If they had the key, they wouldn't need to drill the box. "No, we didn't find the key."

Smothers frowned. "Is it really necessary? It is rather expensive to have a box drilled and then replace the lock."

"I wouldn't ask if it wasn't necessary," Ironside snarled. He was running out of patience.

"Well, okay, if you think it is necessary. However, we have to bring a man into do it. We don't have a drill on the premises."

"Then call him," Ironside said staring at the bank president.

Smothers disappeared and came back in a few minutes. "The company is sending a man right away."

"Thank you," the chief said. Right away turned out to be 45 minutes.

"What's the number?" the man asked.

Ironside looked over at Dorothy Mullins who answered right away. "510."

They headed in the direction of the vault. Upon their arrival, the man with the drill went into the vault and quickly located box 510. Dorothy Mullins followed him in. When Chief Ironside attempted to wheel into the vault, David Smothers stepped in front of him. "I am sorry, Chief, but only customers with safety deposit boxes can entered this particular vault."

Ironside reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. He searched his key ring, and when he found the key he was looking for, he showed it to Smothers.

David Smothers backed up and allowed the detective to enter the vault. "I am sorry, Chief, I didn't know you had a safety deposit box here."

Ironside called over his shoulder, "I don't. I just have a key that looks like a safety deposit box key."

Carl grinned and then laughed at the look on the banker's face. When he wasn't looking, Carl slipped past him and went into the vault to join Ironside.

Smothers put up his hand and opened his mouth to say something, but decided neither Ironside nor his lieutenant would leave the vault even if he ordered them to, so he decided not to tangle with the wheelchair bound detective.

Dorothy Mullins opened the large box and looked inside. Everything appeared to be just as she had left it the last time she opened the box. "I don't see anything out of the . . . "

Ironside raised a brow when she stopped. "What is it, Miss Mullins?"

She pulled a diary out of the box and handed it to Robert Ironside. "This isn't mine. I didn't put it in there."

Ironside opened the diary. It was in a man's handwriting. He showed it to her. "Is this Zach's handwriting?"

Dorothy looked at the writing in the diary. "Why, yes. He must've taken the key and put that in my box, Chief Ironside. I swear I didn't know it was in there."

Ironside ignored her last remark. He was engrossed in a section of the diary. A big grin broke out on his face, and he looked up at Carl Reese. "I think we have a start on that evidence your boys said didn't exist."

2

Ed Brown pulled the police car into the main precinct at the New York City Police Department. He couldn't shake the feeling that this investigation had been arranged for him by Vivian and the captain. It was bad enough that he was torn between her and his job in San Francisco. He didn't like being pressured to make a decision. He'd make it in his own good time.

Ed thought about his position in Chief Ironside's office. His position was the envy of a lot of detectives in the SFPD. Furthermore, Ed had tremendous respect for Robert Ironside. He really enjoyed working with him. No other police officer had ever taken the interest in him that the chief had. He wasn't sure he wanted to give that up.

But, what bothered him more than anything was the fact that Vivian seemed to want to control his entire life. He was supposed to be on vacation, yet here he was about to enter into an investigation.

Would making a move to New York really make any difference?

He couldn't get rid of the nagging fact that Vivian had no respect for his profession, yet expected him to respect hers. Her comments about the police were not only disappointing, but very concerning. If he made the move to New York, would she then try to get him to give up police work all together? They had already gotten into a big fight over their professions. He felt bad about some things he'd said, but they paled in comparison to the things she said about the police.

Brown entered the police department and headed directly for Captain Emerick's office. When he arrived, the detective was on the phone. He saw Brown standing at the door and waved him in with his hand. Gesturing toward the chair in front of his desk, Captain Emerick indicated to him to sit down.

Ed waited patiently for him to finish his conversation. He looked around the room and noticed the citations JC Emerick had on his wall. Brown got up in walked over to the main wall covered in certificates and awards. The man was a highly decorated police officer. Brown knew he should consider it an honor to work for such a man until he thought about the man he already worked for. Why would he even consider leaving Chief Ironside's office? It didn't get any better than that.

They were trying to dangle having his own police unit in front of him, believing it would be enough to lure him to New York. They had no idea how much he loved working with the chief. Ed didn't mind taking orders from the man.

After all, even if he had his own crime unit, he would still be taking orders from somebody.

They simply couldn't understand that he didn't have to have his own crime unit to be happy. The people he worked with were not just colleagues, they were part of his family. They cared about and took care of each other. He'd been to New York on many occasions; he couldn't imagine that kind of relationship with fellow officers in New York City.

Continuing to check out every frame on the wall, Ed could see many awards and commendations. It reminded him of the chief. He had received more than his share of these type of awards. However, anyone walking into his office would never know it. Chief Ironside never allowed them to be hung on the walls in his office. Eve had encouraged it on many occasions, but he'd never allow it. He put far more importance on the job then he did commendations and awards received. At the same time, he had recommended commendations for Eve, Carl, and Ed on many occasions. Credit for himself was never something Robert Ironside claimed.

After five minutes, Captain Emerick hung up the phone. "Ed, I am happy to see that you could make it. We really could use your help on this one." He stood up, walked around the desk and said, "Follow me."

Brown got up and left the office with the captain. They proceeded down the hall to another office. Emerick didn't knock on the door, he simply entered. Ed followed him in.

"Sergeant Brown, I would like you to meet Officer McNabb."

Brown step forward and shook the hand of the young officer. "A pleasure to meet you."

The officer crossed his arms across his chest as he sat on the edge of his desk. He stood there with a smile on his face that Brown could tell was forced. It was obvious the officer resented Ed's entrance into his case.

"Happy to have you aboard," Officer Devon McNabb said.

"Thank you," Brown told him. "Glad to help out."

After the captain left, Devon McNabb turned and went back to his desk. After sitting down, he picked up a pencil and began tapping it.

"I take it you are not happy about the captain asking me to help with this case?" Ed asked.

"I don't need a big shot detective to come in here and tell me how to investigate. I have been doing just fine on my own. I've no doubt the reason for your appearance, is that the captain wants you to join the police department here in New York.

Brown watched as McNabb continued to tap his pencil on the desk. "Would you prefer I tell Captain Emerick that after you told me about the case, I decided I'm not interested in helping with the case?"

"You would do that?" McNabb's eyes lit up.

Brown walked over and sat in the chair across the desk from where McNabb was sitting. "Look, I don't want to interfere with your case. If you don't want my help, I'll leave right now. I'm only here because the captain asked me to assist you."

McNabb frowned. If Brown left, the captain would immediately suspect he said or did something to turn the sergeant away. He had voiced his disapproval of the arrangement to the point of insubordination. He'd never believe Brown just decided to turn his back on the investigation no matter how much Devon wished he would. Devon have to put up with him until he returned to San Francisco, that is if he returned at all. The captain believe they could convince Brown to stay by interesting him in a case.

Devon was about to be promoted to sergeant. He'd heard the captain was going to organize a special crime unit. Devon wanted to be the one who headed it. That position was now in doubt with Ed Brown on the scene. The man was working with the legendary Robert T. Ironside. There wasn't any way he could compete with that, and he knew it. Captain Emerick wouldn't even consider him with Brown here in New York. He wanted so much to tell him, yes, he would prefer he told the captain he'd decided not to work on the case, but Devon knew that was not facing reality. Brown was here to stay.

Ed waited for Officer McNabb to make up his mind. He really didn't want to work on the case in the first place. He didn't like being manipulated, and that was clearly what this was. Ed was seeing a side of Vivian he didn't like. He hadn't seen it in San Francisco. Ed was certain he was seeing it now.

"Look, Officer McNabb, I really don't want to do this in the first place. I don't get away from Chief Ironside's office very often and spending my time investigating a case here in New York is not exactly my idea of a vacation. So, why don't you tell me what it's all about. I'll give you some advice, whatever it's worth, and then I'll tell the captain I'm not needed; you can handle it on your own."

Devon thought about it. It just might work. It didn't sound to him like Brown was really interested in running the crime unit. If he was, he would've jumped at the chance to prove himself to the captain. Instead, he was willing to walk away. It sounded promising for his own prospects. Devon decided to take Brown up on his offer, but he had to make it sound like it was the sergeant's idea.

"I'll tell you about the case, Sergeant Brown. I want you to make up your own mind whether you want to head up the investigation." McNabb made sure he didn't sound the least bit convincing. If Brown was as good a detective as the captain said he was, and he suspected he was since he worked for Chief Ironside, then he would detect Devon didn't want him.

He'd been right. Ed could tell from the tone of his voice, Devon resented the captain asking him to help with the case. Sergeant Brown could hardly blame him, he'd be just as upset if he were in his place. Fortunately, he would never be in his place. No one took cases away from his boss or put someone else in charge.

Ed decided to turn the job down. Vivian would probably be upset with him, but then she'd been upset with him most of the time he spent in New York. For the next twenty minutes McNabb showed him all the evidence and information they had collected on a man believed to be a serial killer. The longer Ed listened, the more the case fascinated him. Despite his genuine interest, he'd still refuse to help with the case. After giving Officer McNabb some advice and suggesting where he should take his investigation, Ed Brown stood up and left his office. He returned to Captain Emerick's office and knocked on the door.

Captain Emerick looked up from his desk and waved him in. Ed opened the door, entered, and walked over to the captain's desk. "Sit down, Ed. Tell me what you think and how you'll go about handling the investigation."

Brown didn't take him up on his invitation to sit down. He wasn't going to be in Emerick's office long enough to get comfortable. "I'm not going to head the investigation, Captain. As far as I can see, Officer McNabb is covering all the bases. You'll just have to exercise some patience and give him time to solve it. From what he showed me, the steps he's taken, and methods he's used, Officer McNabb is doing everything I would've done. I did give him some suggestions, but that is all. You don't need me, Captain."

Emerick realized his first impression that Ed Brown wasn't really interested in working for the New York Police Department had been the right one after all. Otherwise, Brown wouldn't be standing in front of him telling him that he wasn't interested in working with the department on the case. There wasn't any sense in taking this any further. He stood up, shook Ed's hand and said, "I'll arrange to have one of my men take you back to Vivian's penthouse apartment."

"Don't bother, I'll catch a cab." Ed turned and was out the door, making sure he didn't give Emerick time to reconsider his decision to let him walk away.

Captain Emerick watched the sergeant leave. He would've love to have him on the force. You couldn't hire a man if he just plain wasn't interested, and Ed Brown wasn't interested. He went back to his paperwork as the door closed.

3

Thinkgs were looking up. Robert Ironside sat at the main table in his office-residence. He didn't have enough to arrest Hunt yet, but Zach Hill's Diary had certainly given them the clues they needed to build a case. Chief Ironside waited for Carl Reese to report to his office. Carl was an excellent officer, and the chief was glad he was there to call on, but Ironside preferred to have Ed at his side in times like this. Ed and Eve knew him better and read him better than Carl did, although he certainly had improved over the years. The problem with Carl was he was not as even tempered as Ed. Ironside worried Carl's temper might get the better of him.

The door to the office opened and Lieutenant Carl Reese walked in. Mark Sanger came out of the kitchen and immediately handed the detective a cup of coffee. Carl sat down beside Ironside. "You wanted to see me, Chief?"

"Yes, Carl." He handed him the diary which was opened to a particular page.

Reese took the diary and looked at Chief Ironside. "I know what this is, Chief. I was with you, remember?"

"But, you didn't read it. Read the paragraph on the left-hand side, about halfway down the page," Ironside ordered.

Reese took a sip of Mark's coffee and cringed. He looked over at Sanger who had seen his expression.

"Don't start, Carl. It is bad enough I have to listen to the chief complain about the coffee," Mark said.

"I told you it was bad," Ironside said. "It must really be bad if Reese doesn't like it. He'll drink anything."

Mark shook his head and sat down. He was certain the chief just like to see if he could get a rise out of him by criticizing his coffee making skills.

Officer Whitfield left the desk she was sitting at and joined them at the table. After Carl finished reading the paragraph Ironside had directed his attention to, he looked up at the highest ranking detective in the police department. "Come on, Chief. Do you really think the money is still there? Hunt would've gone after it the minute he got out of prison."

"Actually, Carl, he hasn't. He knows me well enough to know that I'd be having him watched. He's not going to go after the money until he thinks it's safe to do so. Hunt will wait. He knows I can't keep men watching him forever. Hunt will figure all he has to do is wait me out. I have no doubt he wasn't counting on Zach Hill keeping a diary. Unfortunately for him, we're going to go pick up the money. He's counting on that money. When Hunt discovers we've picked it up, he just may resort to his old habits again."

"Okay, so he hasn't gone after the money. It still doesn't prove he killed Zach Hill," Eve said.

Ironside picked up his coffee mug, took a sip, and made a face for Mark's benefit. After setting the cup down on the table, he turned his attention to his policewoman. "No, it doesn't, Eve. The only way to bring him out in the open is to put pressure on him. You know as well as I do, he's not going to be satisfied only living on the money from the job his parole officer got him. Hunt will seek other funds. Since we know he's robbed other banks before we caught him, it's logical to assume he has money stashed away from those capers. When he finds out we've picked up the money from the one robbery, it just might force him to go after the others."

"Of course! He'll be worried you have found out where all the money is," Eve said excitedly.

"Chief, you do realized this guy has proclaimed he's going to kill you, don't you?" Mark said.

Ironside picked up the diary. Holding it in his hand, he answered Mark. "That's exactly what I am going to force him to do. Well, at least force him to try."

Carl rolled his eyes. "You are going to purposely try to get a man you believed murdered Zach Hill to come after you to try to kill you?"

Ironside grinned. "That's right, Carl. When he does, he's going back to prison. Only this time, he's going back for the rest of his life. There will be no parole. It'll make him a three time loser."

"Why not just find the evidence to prove he killed Zach Hill?" Eve asked. "Why do you have to provoke him to come after you?"

"We're going to do both. We know he killed Zach . . ."

"Just a minute, Chief. We don't know any such thing. The department wasn't able to prove it," Carl argued. "You might suspect it, but it has not been proven."

"It will be. The evidence is out there, we just have to find it," Ironside said.

"Alright, so where do we look?" Carl said. "The department ran a thorough investigation and couldn't tie Hill's murder to Hunt."

"Carl, he killed Zach Hunt, and I intend to prove it. Let's go get the money."

Before Eve, Mark or Carl could say anything else, Ironside turned his chair around and was headed for the ramp. He stopped and looked over his shoulder. "Well, don't just sit there, let's go!"

The tone of his voice sent them into immediate motion.

4

The taxi pulled to a stop in front of Vivian's apartment building. Brown looked up at the top of the building which seemed to go on forever. Ed thought of Jack and the Beanstalk. It seemed appropriate at the moment since there was a haze hiding the very top of the building. The buildings in parts of San Francisco were tall, but New York was full of skyscrapers. The sergeant looked around him. There wasn't a blade of grass in sight. That wasn't the case in San Francisco. You could easily find places where green grass was plentiful. The one thing Ed had always loved was going to the park and listening to the sounds of people enjoying the wonders of the city. And, the Golden Gate . . . what in New York could compare to that? Nothing that Ed could see.

Brown shook his head as he stood there. Looking over toward the street, an old man was sitting on the sidewalk. He wore tattered clothes. His shirt had holes in the elbows and the knees of his pant legs were non-existent. He admitted San Francisco wasn't perfect. It had its homeless too, but San Francisco had a charm New York didn't. Ed loved the slopes of the streets, the street cars, the Golden Gate, and the Bay. How could one not love the beauty of the Bay area. Most of all, Ed loved his job working with the most brilliant man he had ever known.

The problem was he also loved Vivian Page. She was beautiful, intelligent, talented and loving. But, was she for him? They were most definitely compatible in bed. She was a caring, excitable lover. Was that enough? No, he knew it wasn't. It seemed to him that there wasn't any way to work things out with her. Even if he felt compelled to take the job with the NYPD, would she then try to get him to quit police work altogether? Did she even take a minute to consider what made him happy, or was it all about her?

He had put off going upstairs as long as he possibly could. Ed wasn't looking forward to the conversation that would follow. He feared it would escalate into another argument. Walking into the building, Brown headed for the elevator. He pushed the button and waited for the doors to open. When they did, he pressed the penthouse floor button, the doors closed, and the elevator began carrying him to the top of the "beanstalk." He knew what awaited Jack at the top.

The doors opened, and he went directly to Vivian's apartment. Using the key she had given him, he unlocked the door and went in. When Vivian heard the door open, she came out of her studio. Surprised to see Ed back so soon, she went directly to him, and he took her into his arms. Ed held onto her like he was holding her for the last time. For he was afraid that was exactly what he was doing. He couldn't move to New York. His home was in San Francisco.

Ed's specialty seemed to be falling for impossible relationships. He lost one woman to Tom Dayton. He lost his high school sweetheart, despite having found her again. But, she'd been dishonest with him and was aiding a fugitive from the law. Ed broke it off and never saw her again. Then there was the woman who had been the obsession of a very powerful crook. He had broken up the relationship of the woman he had fallen for from her previous relationship. Her life had also ended tragically. Then there was Ava, the woman who tried to break away from the mobster, Benito Corneilo. While Ed was in Las Vegas to pick up Corneilo's top lieutenant, Corneilo murdered Ava . . . his Ava.

Now, here he was again . . . in another fatal relationship. Ed pushed Vivian back. She could see by the look on his face something was very wrong. "What is it, Ed? What's wrong? What happened? I didn't expect you back until tonight."

"I turned Captain Emerick down, Viv. I'm not going to work on the case," Brown told her.

Vivian became upset instantly. "Why not?"

"Because I don't want to work for the NYPD." There . . . he had finally said it.

Vivian turned and walked away from him. She went into her bedroom and slammed the door. Ed shook his head and followed her. Opening the door, he entered. Vivian's back was to him. He was unable to see her face which kept him from reading her expression, not that he didn't already know what it was.

"That's it, Vivian. You don't even want to talk about it," Ed asked.

"What's there to talk about. You obviously aren't able to compromise," she snapped.

"I'm not able to compromise?" Ed said in disbelief. "Just exactly who is being asked to give up everything? Not you! You don't have to give up a thing. Not your home, your career or your friends, but I am expected to give up all those things."

She turned on him with a venom Ed had never seen before from her. "I never asked you to give up your career, Ed Brown, and you know it. In fact, I went out of my way to help you secure a position with the NYPD!"

"Oh yes, my own special unit," Ed said. "And if that wasn't enough, you decided to manipulate me into helping with an investigation to get me hooked on the job here."

"I did not!"

"Don't lie to me, Viv. You can't lie to me. I'm a detective. I should've seen it the last time you were in San Francisco. You just couldn't let me make up my own mind, could you?"

"You can't make up your own mind. Ironside has his hooks into you so deep you can't even think for yourself. What difference does it make what city you work in? If you really loved me you'd come here and be with me," she shouted.

"If you really loved me, you could come to San Francisco," Ed countered.

"How many times do I have to tell you. I'm an actress, a theater actress. My career is here in New York. You could work anywhere. All you do is wave your gun and bully people anyway. You can do that right here in New York. There are more people to bully in New York than in San Francisco!"

Ed could feel the anger rising. He kept his temper in check despite being ready to explode. He'd begun to resent her feelings on cops. "And if I came here, how long would it be before you stared pushing me to quit the force altogether? You're not fooling me one bit, Viv. You're using the NYPD only for the purpose of getting me to leave San Francisco. Then you'd manipulate me to leave police work, and if I did, what would you expect me to do? Follow you around like your groupies do?"

"You could head my security," she shouted at him.

"Oh, I see. It's alright for me to carry a gun to protect you, but it's not alright for me to carry a gun to protect the citizens of San Francisco. Is that it?"

"You are impossible!"

"I'm impossible? What about you? Does everything have to be your way?"

"I'm the one that makes the money. You make nothing compared to me. You prefer that damn Ironside to me! Why don't you just go back to San Francisco. You deserve that deplorable man!"

"No, I don't deserve him, but I am lucky to have him as a friend and boss."

"Oh yeah right, the man controls your life?" she yelled.

"No, Viv, he doesn't. If he did, he never would've let me come out here in the first place."

"Then go back! I don't ever want to see you again!" Vivian stormed out of the room and went into her bedroom. Ed followed her until he heard the lock on the door click into place.

Brown turned around. He walked through the penthouse apartment and headed straight for the door. He had to get out and calm down. Ed walked down the hall and got on the elevator. After riding it to the street, he walked and walked some more. Why did he let the argument with Vivian escalate out of control? He had promised himself he wouldn't do that. He loved her, but he also knew there wasn't any way to work things out with her. They were just not meant to be. Ed pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and dialed the airport.


	10. Chapter 10

Earthquake in San Francisco

Chapter 10

1

Chief Ironside looked out the front window of his van. Mark Sanger was driving the speed limit. There wasn't any reason to hurry. The money would still be there when they arrived. Frank Hunt wouldn't try to pick it up, that Ironside was sure of. The chief was having him followed. He had instructed the officers to make sure Hunt knew they were there. His intention was to force Hunt to make a move. The man was a hot head. Ironside knew that. All he'd have to do would be to apply enough pressure and the man would break. The detective had seen his kind dozens of times over the course of his career.

The chief picked up the vehicle's police radio handset and barked in to it. "This is Ironside. Put me through to the officers following Frank Hunt."

His request was put through immediately, and the officer answered quickly. "Hi Chief. We allowed Hunt to think he slipped our tail, just as you ordered. We have three unmarked police cars following him," Officer Duffy told him.

"Good job, Duffy. Where is he?"

"Following you, just as you predicted. He's keeping his distance. I don't understand how he can follow you. He's staying so far behind you, he can't possibly see your vehicle."

"Mark found a tracer on the van this morning. He knows exactly where we are, and I have no doubt he knows exactly where we are headed," Ironside said.

"Okay, Chief. We'll stay on him."

"See that you do," Ironside responded.

"Mark, the amusement park is up ahead. Pull in and turned to the left. The merry-go-round is at the far end of the park."

"You got it, Chief," Sanger said as he pulled up to the entrance.

The clerk at the gate looked into the van. "How many in the car? Tickets are $10.00 for kids under 16 and $20.00 for everyone over 16."

Ironside pulled his detective badge out of his suit coat pocket and handed it to Mark, who in turn showed it to the clerk. "My name is Ironside. I am with the San Francisco Police Department on police business. Open the gate."

"I can't do that, Chief. I was told I had to collect from everyone, no exceptions."

The chief was not about to pay to get into an amusement park that held no interest for him other than the money he was there to pick up. "Carl!"

Lieutenant Reese got out of the van on the passenger side, walked around the van, and handed the clerk a search warrant. "This says we can come in and we're not buying tickets."

The clerk looked over the search warrant, nodded, and opened the gate for the officers. Reese got back into the van, and Mark immediately turned left as Ironside had instructed. He headed for the merry-go-round. When they arrived, the ride was operating with every one of the rides occupied by children.

"I'll tell them to stop the ride," Lieutenant Reese said as he opened the van.

"Hey buddy!" shouted a man wearing a badge which indicated he was an employee of the park. "You can't drive that damn thing in this park! Turn it around and get the hell out of here!"

The chief shook his head. "He's operating a merry-go-round full of kids and uses that language. Carl, take care of this."

Reese hopped out of the van and walked over to the employee. After a two-minute heated argument, he walked back to the van, opened it and got in. "He said he isn't stopping the ride. The kid's parents paid for the ride and he is finishing it. He'll hold off allowing anyone else on until we are finished."

"All right, Carl. We can wait a few minutes. Clear the area. We don't need any of these people getting in the way." Turning to Eve, Ironside told her, "Eve, you help Carl find the money. Somehow Hunt managed to hide it under one of the horses."

Eve and Carl got out of the vehicle and headed over to the merry-go-round. As soon as it stopped, they waited for the kids to depart the horses. They began clearing the area of people. Once they had them at a safe distance, they started checking each of the horses. After a 10 minute search, both of them came up empty handed.

Eve walked back to the boss. "Nothing, Chief."

"It has to be there, Eve, keep looking," Ironside barked.

The policewoman went back to the horses on the merry-go-round when she noticed something strange about one of them. Eve walked over to it. The base of the horse had a square etched into it. No, etched wasn't the right word. It looked like someone could have cut the square into it and then fixed it. "Carl! Come here!"

Reese poked his head out from behind one of the horses. "What is it?"

"I think I may have found something," she called out. "At the least, I think we should check it out.

Carl stopped what he was doing and headed in Eve's direction. When he arrived, he asked, "Okay, what did you find?"

"Look at the square on the base of the horse."

Carl saw immediately what had Eve's interest. He looked at the two horse's next to it. Neither had the square on it. He began checking other horses on the merry-go-round. It appeared to be the only one with the strange square on the base.

"What do you think? Could someone have used a tool to remove a section of the horse in order to hide something inside?" Eve asked.

"You mean like money?" Carl said

"That's exactly what I mean," she responded.

"Let's find out." They walked back to where the chief was waiting and told him what Eve had found. "We're going to need a saw, Chief. It looks like a section may have been removed and that cemented back in."

"Find one," Ironside ordered.

Reese went to the head of the amusement park who cooperated immediately. He ordered an employee to get a saw for the police officers. Within 15 minutes, he returned with an electric saw. He showed Reese where to plug it in. Carl connected it to the electrical outlet and began sawing along the lines of the square on the horse. It did not take him long before it became obvious the squared section could be removed from the horse. He pulled it out and set it on the ground. There was a hollow section inside the base. Carl reached in and pulled out a bag. After checking inside, he looked up at Eve and grinned. "Jackpot."

After Carl placed the square block back in place, both officers headed back to the chief. When they arrive, Ironside barked, "Well?" Carl handed him the bag. Ironside looked inside and grinned. "Well, that ought to stimulate Mister Hunt into action. He'll be good and mad at me now."

"Chief, he threatened to kill you," Eve said. "I think he's plenty upset with you already."

"Well, he'll be madder yet. The madder he is, the better the chance he'll start making mistakes. When he does, we've got him. Let's get a team in here and see if we can pull any prints off the bottom of that horse."

Ironside wheeled back to his van. The park employee approached him. "Hey, can we resume running the merry-go-round? And, what are you going to do about the hole you cut in that horse?"

"The hole was already there. We just reopened it," Ironside growled. "And no, you can't resume the rides until we get a fingerprint team in here. Eve, go back to that horse and make sure no one touches it."

Eve nodded and left Ironside. The chief wheeled his chair backwards onto the lift. Once in the vehicle, he grabbed the handset and said, "This is Ironside. Duffy, what's our friend doing?"

Duffy laughed. "He's in the park, Chief. He followed you, just as you said he would. I have no doubt he knows you have the money."

"Good. That'll light a fire under him for sure."

In the distance, Frank Hunt's anger was growing by the minute. The damn cripple had just taken his money. That would've gotten him far away from San Francisco and Ironside. Now, what was he going to do? He should've taken the chance and picked the money up as soon as he got out of prison. After all, he'd easily slipped away from the dumb cops who were assigned to follow him. Damn Ironside! He'd have to live on the crumbs the stupid job he'd been given by the parole officer. It didn't pay squat! Nothing to what he was use to. He needed to find new partners and go back to robbing banks. Once he had made enough money, he was out of San Francisco. First, he was going to make Ironside pay for what he had done to him.

2

Rolland Hubbard watched the guard out of the corner of his eye. As soon as he brought his dinner into his cell, he would make his move. Fortunately, his cell was at the far end of the block around the corner. It was the only one down that hall. The rest of the hall had a recreation room for the inmates who behaved themselves enough to have those privileges. Rolland, of course, was not one of them. He was considered a threat to other prisoners. In actuality, he was only a threat to those who threatened him, or didn't give him what he wanted. If he was supposed to spend the rest of his life in this hole, he was going to have what he wanted. Rolland had spent years cultivating intimidation. The other prisoners were scared of him. None of them gave him any trouble. If they had something he wanted, he'd make them give it to him.

He was sick of this stinking hole. He wanted out. Rolland came to the conclusion that he wasn't spending the rest of his life in a cell. Since he couldn't get out by parole, and was serving consecutive life sentences, the only way out was to break out. He was about to become a free man. When he got outside the walls of the prison, he'd find Frank Hunt. The two of them would become partners. He'd given Frank that talk about staying straight and avoiding coming back to the prison, but that was just talk. He knew fully well if he got out on parole, he would be finding every way he could to make money, and none of it would be legal. Making money the legal way was far too hard. It was much easier to make it, or should he say take it the illegal way? If society wanted him to work for a living, they should have structured it so that he could make lots of money with little effort.

Still, there was risk to stealing your living. One had to deal with men like Ironside. Actually, there were no men like Ironside. Very few, if any had the deductive ability of that cripple cop. How could a cripple in a wheelchair be so dangerous? Yet, Rolland wasn't kidding himself. He would never deal with another cop as cunning and dangerous as Robert Ironside. It was too bad the woman that shot him hadn't put the bullet in his head instead of his back. All she did was serve to make the man more dangerous than he already was. She wounded him, and everyone knew how a wounded animal acted. Ironside was cantankerous, even more so than he had been before he was shot. He took it out on guys like him and Frank.

Frank made up his mind to kill Ironside. Maybe, just maybe he was right. If they robbed a bank and then fled San Francisco, Ironside would never stop until he found them. He wanted to avenge the death of that bank employee Frank killed. Why did the damn detective even care? Zack Hill was a casualty of war, and war was exactly what it was. It was no different than a country who wanted something and went to war with another country to get it. What did they do to all the soldiers who fought and killed their enemy? Nothing! If they lived through the conflict, they went on with their lives. How was that any different than the kid that was killed in the bank. He was killed in a war. The other people survived. They were going on with their lives. Why should he, a soldier of life, be penalized for killing in a war when governments did it all the time. People had such screwed up values!

Rolland fingered the boxcutter knife he was able to obtain from one of the other inmates. Naturally, he was forced to use intimidation in order to get it. The inmate was quickly resourceful in finding a way to get weapons. Rolland didn't care where he got them, only that he did. He'd never had to figure out where to get hold of one. There was always someone to do that for you when you held the influence he did in the prison.

Taking a closer look at the boxcutter, Rolland was looking forward to using it on the guard. That particular guard was always trying to bully him. He'd received several beatings from him for no reason other than Rolland had to put other inmates in there place to keep them in order. Aaron Williams was about to find out that he should never have messed with him. Maybe he'd cut his throat on the way out. Yes, that is what he would do. He had everything planned out. The man at the gate was new. He wouldn't know Rolland from Adam, as the expression went. With Williams uniform and the fake identification he'd been provided, he was going to walk right out the front door of the prison.

Aaron Williams turned the corner and came back into view. Rolland had been so lost in thought he hadn't even notice the man had left. Now, he was back with Rolland's dinner. He'd no intention of eating the slop. Prison food was worse than what they served in a hospital. Besides, as soon as he got on the outside, he would visit a friend who had promised to help him with a disguise. Rolland was going to walk right into a steak house somewhere and have the biggest and juiciest steak he could order. He'd do it right under the noses of the police department, not to mention Ironside. Then he would contact Frank and help him plan the murder of the cripple, but first he'd go to the amusement park and pick up the money for Frank. Ironside would be having him watched, so Frank couldn't do it himself. They'd shake Frank's tail and go somewhere the police couldn't find them. There they'd come up with a plan to take revenge on the crippled detective.

Williams approached his cell. Placing the tray in one hand, he unlocked the cell with the other hand. "Stand back, Hubbard."

Rolland took a couple steps back, and Williams set the tray down. "If you could be civilized and behave yourself, you could eat in the cafeteria with the rest of the men."

"Shut up and get out, Williams. Your ugly face makes me sick, and I'd like to be able to eat my dinner without puking."

"Now see, that's what I'm talking about. It's been a while since your last lesson." He pulled the billy club from his belt. "Maybe it's time for another lesson."

On cue, yelling began in the cross hall where most of the cells were located. Rolland had arranged for a couple men to start a disturbance. Williams turn quickly toward the front of the cell. It was the break Rolland had been expecting. He moved swiftly toward Williams, and with the box cutter knife, he slit his throat. He shoved his head downward to try to prevent any blood from spilling on his uniform. He was not entirely successful. He waited until he bled out and set him down on the floor face down. Rolland had to hurry. There was not much time. Serving him was Williams last job for the day. His shift had ended and he should be leaving. Hubbard removed his prison jumpsuit as fast as he could, undressed Williams, and removed his shoes. He put his uniform on and then struggled with his shoes. "You might know the jerk has small feet," he grumbled. He wouldn't be able to stand the shoes very long. Then again, he only had to get on the outside and Frank would help him get clothes, hopefully some that fit.

He inspected the uniform. Naturally there was blood on the collar. He had to figure a way to hide it. If the guard at the front gate saw it, he'd never get out of the prison. Damn it, why didn't he just shove the box cutter into the man's back. Now, he had a real problem.

He took Williams identification badge he wore every day. That was another problem. He didn't look anything like Williams. Rolland left the cell and headed toward the cross hall. The men in the cells he passed gave him a nod. He knew it was more out of fear of him than it was out of respect. He didn't care either way. All he could think about was getting the hell out the prison before William was discovered, which would be in about an hour when another guard returned to pick up the food tray.

As he approach the gate, he kept his face turned away. This was the most dangerous part of his plan. The guard would surely know he wasn't Williams if he was paying attention. Fortunately, he had his face in a newspaper. Rolland pulled the key from its retractable chain and unlocked the door. As soon as he was out of the cell block, he noticed the guard had on his jacket. The shift was about to change, and he was probably about to leave as well. Rolland pulled out the club and hit the guard in the back of the head. He never even looked up from his paper. Another lucky break.

Rolland removed his jacket and put it on. He zipped the zipper all the way up to his neck and raised the collar. He looked down and could not see any blood visible. It was time to get out. Hubbard headed for the front entrance. Keeping his head down, he passed by guards who were coming in to start their shift. As he arrived at the front gate, his nerves began to settle. He was almost there. Waving at the guard, he waited until he unlocked the main gate, and then walked right out of the prison. Rolland walked at a normal pace so he wouldn't make the guard suspicious.

He kept going until he was out of sight. Then he began running. He had to hot-wire a car and get as far away from the prison as he could. He knew the area well and knew just what roads to take. He was free at last. If he'd realized it would be that easy, he would've left that god forsaken joint a long time ago.

3

Ed Brown paced back and forth at the airport. His flight had been delayed. At this point, he'd no idea when he was going to get out of New York. He couldn't remember the last time a vacation had been such a disaster. He should've known better. Vivian had displayed her dislike for cops when she had been in San Francisco. Why didn't he realize that her opinion wouldn't have change? Ed couldn't wait to get back home. He didn't like being away knowing the city had been hit by earthquakes. The chief would need him. Hopefully, the worst was behind them. So far as he could tell, there hadn't been that much damage. Nevertheless, he'd have to get home to find out. How was he supposed to do that while stranded at the airport. He looked up at the scheduled flights. Everything seemed to be on time except his flight. Then he noticed only flights going into San Francisco were delayed or cancelled. How long was he going to have to sit in the airport? After he left Vivian's penthouse apartment, he had walked around New York City for over three hours. Once he had cooled down, he decided to go back to the apartment and try and make things right with Vivian. He couldn't leave without trying to at least part friends. It was a relationship which was doomed from the beginning. Ed could see that now. Maybe he actually knew it, but hadn't wanted to face it. Coming to New York had been a mistake. He knew how she felt about the police and Chief Ironside. Why would he think she'd changed her mind?

When he arrived at the building, he wasn't even allowed to go back up to Vivian's apartment. Vivian had packed his suitcase and left it at the main desk on the first floor. She wouldn't even allow him to say goodbye. He tried calling her, but she refused to answer the phone. Ed couldn't help but feel responsible for the entire situation. When she asked him to come to New York, he should've refused. He couldn't see past his feelings for her. Now, he wished she'd never called him.

His city was suffering earthquakes and experts were on the news claiming they weren't over. The pressure in the plates indicated they were still moving and a large earthquake was only a matter of time. Ed needed to get home. He was worried about the chief, Mark and Eve. He sat down in a chair. He couldn't go to the counter and ask about flights. He had only done that a few minutes ago. Nothing would've change this quickly. If there were any flights going into San Francisco, they would've been posted. Since they weren't, all he could do was to sit there and wait.

"Ed."

Brown turned around to see Vivian standing there. "How did you get past security?"

"I had to purchase a plane ticket," she said with a smile.

Brown noted her eyes were red. She'd been crying. Ed felt responsible for the tears. He was the reason for them. "Why would you do that?" Dare he hope she had a change of heart? Did the possibility of losing him cause her to decide to move to San Francisco? No, he knew better than that. He had to stop it. He was setting himself up for another disappointment.

"I couldn't leave things this way," Vivian said.

"So why did you come?"

"I can't lose you, Ed Brown. Please don't go. Stay here with me. Take the job with the New York City Police Department. I promise I won't try to get you to quit. Just please don't go." Tears flowed down her cheeks.

Ed couldn't stand to see her hurting. He never wanted to be the source of any woman's pain. Yet, he'd been the source of hers. "Viv . . ."

She hurried toward him and put her finger across his lips. "No, don't talk. Let me." She drew her hand away from him and looked directly into his eyes. "I love you, Ed. I have loved you from the moment I met you. I haven't been fair with you. I manipulated you and I haven't considered what makes you happy. You see, I thought I could make you happy. I thought if you had me, you wouldn't need police work. You're right, I intended to get you to quit your job as soon as I could. I realize now I was wrong to do that. And I was wrong to criticize Chief Ironside. He's your friend. You've known him a lot longer than you have known me. I guess I just don't understand him. I'm sorry for what I said about him."

Vivian put her arms around Ed. "Please don't go, Ed. Stay. We can work this out. You can have your own crime unit with the NYPD. I won't interfere with it. I promise. Just don't leave me. I can't get you off my mind."

Ed said nothing for a moment. He didn't want to move to New York. He loved San Francisco. If he made the move, he would only come to resent Vivian for taking him away from the city he loved, and the job he had with Chief Ironside. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, but what he wanted in life was important to. Despite that she was saying she wouldn't interfere with his career as a police detective, she would. He knew that as sure as the sun rises in the east. "Viv, I love you, but I can't stay in New York. I hate the winters and I just am not fond of New York. I don't want to give up my job with Chief Ironside. He is the most brilliant man I have ever worked for. I love San Francisco. It's where I belong. If you want to be together, you can move to California, but I'm afraid that is the only way we can . . ."

"I can't move there, Ed. I'm a theater actress. My career is here in New York."

"And my career is in San Francisco," he said gently.

Tears were streaming down her face. Ed couldn't help himself. He pulled her even tighter to him as she sobbed on his shoulder. After a few minutes, he let her go. "I will always treasure what we had, Viv, but we need to face it now. This wasn't meant to be. Neither of us wants to give up what we have. That could only mean the love between us isn't strong enough to keep us together."

She looked away from him. "How can I live without you?"

"Day by day, Viv. The hurt will subside. You'll meet someone else, and then I will just be a memory."

"You're a hard act to follow, Ed Brown."

He smiled. "Someone will not only live up to me in your eyes, but surpass me." He held her tightly and kissed her with passion. When he broke the kiss, he said, "Goodbye, Viv."

"Goodbye, Ed." She turned and walked away from him without looking back.

4

Damn Ironside! The cripple cop stole his money. Frank Hunt paced back and forth in his crappy apartment. His anger was growing by the minute. He had that money stashed away for 15 years. Frank would've picked it up as soon as the heat died down. He expected Ironside to show an interest in him for a while. He thought it would only last a short time and the the crippled cop would go back to putting people behind bars. Now, Frank was broke. He couldn't rob a bank right now. He was being too closely watched by the police; no doubt ordered by Ironside. That damn cop had to be stopped, and Frank was just the man who could do it. He'd lure him away from police headquarters and put a bullet in his head. He was done interfering with his life. Frank had to plan it carefully. He would have to have a solid alibi because he was the first one they'd suspect since he threatened him at the parole hearing.

The problem as Frank saw it was he wouldn't be able to do it himself. He'd have to hire someone if he was to keep from being a suspect. That presented a problem. The only money he had was now in the possession of the police. How was he going to hire someone to kill Ironside when he hadn't any money to pay them? Maybe going back to prison was worth it if Ironside was dead. What kind of a life did he have on the outside anyway. Frank had a job that paid next to nothing. He lived in a dump and had to report to a parole officer once a week. What kind of life was that?

In prison, he was king. Everyone was scared of Rolland Hubbard. Since they were friends, no one dared mess with him. Anything he wanted, Rolland made sure he had it. He didn't have to go without cigarettes, nor did he have to buy them. Rolland ordered someone to give them to him and they did it without question. Rolland would force other inmates to do his work. He got all the books he wanted to read, again courtesy of the other prisoners. Hell, his cell in the prison was better than the hell-hole he was living in now. He should've let Ironside derail his parole.

There was a quiet knock on the window. At first Frank thought it was a bird banging his beak on the glass, but then it started coming in rhythm. Frank recognized that rhythm. It was the same one he and Rolland used to signal each other in prison. It couldn't be, could it? Hunt hurried over to the window expecting to scare away a bird. He missed his friend. It had to be his imagination that the rhythm was the same. Rolland Hubbard would never get out of prison. Frank pushed the curtain back. There on the other side of the window, his friend stood there grinning.

Hunt struggled with the window, but soon got it open. With some difficulty, Rolland crawled inside. "Why do they make these windows so damn small?"

"You're supposed to use the door," Frank laughed.

"I couldn't. The cops are watching the door. I had a hard enough time just trying to stay out of their sight to get to the window."

Frank grinned. "Well, I am glad you're here." They shook hands and then embraced in a brief hug.

"You really missed me, huh?" Rolland smiled.

"You're the best friend I've ever had. But, I know you shouldn't be here. So, do you mind telling me how you got out of the joint?"

"I killed a guard and took his clothes. Walked right out the front gate when his shift was up. If I'd known it was that easy, I would've left there a long time ago instead of spending years in that hole."

"What guard?"

"What?"

"What guard did you kill?" Frank asked.

"Aaron Williams. It felt damn good too. I have taken quite a few beatings at his hand. Well, he won't beat on me anymore."

"Or anyone else apparently," Frank said. They looked at each other and laughed.

"So, tell me, how's it been on the outside?" Rolland asked, turning the conversation to a more serious tone.

Frank waved his hand around the room. "Take a look around. This place is a dump. The wages I will earn at the job they got me are ridiculous. I can't live this way, Rolland."

"What about your money?"

Hunt's face turned to pure hatred. "Ironside, that's what happened to it. I don't know how he found out where it was, but I had to sit by and watch him and his detectives pick it up."

"The money? You mean Ironside has it?"

"Yeah, the police have my money. That damn crippled cop! He's been a thorn in my side for years. I've had it with him! Look, Rolland, I know you didn't want me to . . . "

Hubbard interrupted him. "Say no more. I've changed my mind. I agree with you. Ironside must be stopped or you'll never get any peace."

"I want to kill the son-of-a-bitch."

"And you will, but with my help. If they catch me, I simply go back. You have a chance to stay on the outside. So, you will let me kill him, is that clear?"

Frank was touched by his friend's gesture. Rolland was truly the best friend he'd ever had. Actually, he was just about the only friend he'd ever had. "Okay, as long as Ironside is dead, that is all that matters to me."

"He'll be dead. I promise you that."

"So, how will you do it?" Hunt asked him.

"First, I need to know something. Did you kill him?"

Confused, Frank asked, "Kill who?"

"The kid, Zack Hill."

Hunt grinned. "You bet I did. The little weasel got cold feet. He was going to talk to Ironside."

"You should've let him. He ended up putting you behind bars anyway," Rolland said.

"No one gets away with ratting me out, Rolland. I killed the little bastard and those two cops protecting him."

"Can Ironside trace it back to you?"

"No, no way," Frank said, shaking his head.

"Really, are you that sure? Ironside found the money. How did he do that? Have you considered that he's unearthed something that ties you to the murder since he found that money?"

"If he could tie me to the murder, he would've arrested me by now."

Rolland nodded. "Yeah, I guess he would've. Okay, here's what we're going to do. We're going to lure him somewhere. You'll be no where near him. In fact, you'll be somewhere public; somewhere a lot of people will see you so that you'll have an iron-clad alibi. I'll go in your place and meet Ironside. I'll kill him for you. You'll be home free. It is only a matter of time before they catch up with me anyway. I wanted to see you again. Prison is hell since you left."

Frank walked over to Rolland and put his hand on his shoulder. "A man couldn't ask for a better friend. I don't like leaving you holding the bag if this goes wrong."

"It won't go wrong. Ironside is as good as dead."

Frank worried about the plan. "Ironside never goes anywhere without that aid of his, or his cops. How are you going to get past them?"

"He'll be told no one is to come with him. If I see a cop anywhere, the deal will be off. He's to tell no one."

Frank shook his head. "That won't work. He's a cripple. The aid has to drive him around."

"Not anymore. I hear that van of his is specially equipped. Ironside can drive it himself."

A grin crossed Hunt's face. "Perfect. Let's sit down and finalize the details.


	11. Chapter 11

Earthquake in San Francisco

Chapter 11

1

Lieutenant Reese entered the Police lab. He was well aware that his boss would be impatient for the results of the fingerprints taken from the merry-go-round. The chief was determined to nail Frank Hunt for the murder of Zack Hill. If his fingerprints were found, it was one step closer to finding the evidence to put him back behind bars where he belonged.

Reese walked over to the Japanese-American who was in charge of the lab work. Carl liked the man. His work was always thorough, and he was always willing to accommodate the chief. For that reason, Ironside almost always asked for him to handle the fingerprint lab work.

"Hey, Heiko!" Reese said with a smile as he entered the room.

Heiko turn to see the sergeant. With a big grin, he responded, "Hey, Carl! How's the chief?"

"You know the chief," Carl said with a smile.

"Yeah, that means he's as grumpy as ever," Heiko laughed.

"You said that, I didn't."

He laughed again. Walking over to his desk, he picked up a manila envelope. Heiko returned to the lieutenant and handed it to Carl.

"Anything I should know about?" Carl inquired.

"The prints definitely belong to Frank Hunt. But then, that is what the chief was expecting, wasn't it?"

"We were pretty sure that we would find his prints. We know that he put the money there immediately after the robbery."

"I don't think so, Carl."

With that statement, he had Reese's attention. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I think he put the money there at a later date."

Carl was confused. "Why do you say that?"

"We found blood inside the bag and on some of the money that you sent over for analysis. I had the boys run it through the lab. The DNA from the blood turned out to be from Zack Hill."

Reese let out a low whistle. "That means he must have put that bag of money in the horse at the merry-go-round just after Zack Hill was murdered."

Heiko nodded. "That would be my guess as well."

"Are we sure that the DNA belongs to Hill?" Reese asked.

Heiko picked up another report. He handed it to Reese. "See for yourself. There isn't any doubt about it. The blood belonged to Zack Hill."

Carl read over the lab report. When he was finished, he looked up at Heiko. "I think you just changed the chief's mood. Frank Hunt is going to have a devil of a time explaining how Zack Hill's blood got on that bag."

"I think the chief has enough to pick Hunt up," Heiko said.

"And charge him with the murder of Zack Hill. All we have to do now is break his alibi."

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Carl?"

The lieutenant grinned. "You've already done plenty. Thanks, Heiko."

"Always a pleasure to help the chief."

Lieutenant Reese took the reports and left the lab. He could imagine the kind of mood this would put his boss in. He expected to receive an order to have Frank Hunt picked up on a charge of suspicion of murder.

When he got outside, he unlocked his dark blue Ford sedan and got in. Reese didn't notice that he was being followed. In the distance, Roland Hubbard watched the detective. He took note that the man left with a manila envelope in his hand.

2

Roland Hubbard hailed a taxi and headed back to Frank's apartment. He had to let Frank know that he'd just seen Reese leave the Police lab. Frank's money was certainly in the bag Ironside's officers had found. His prints would likely be found on the money. He didn't believe that was enough to have him arrested, but maybe it was time the two of them left that apartment and found a place to hide out. He had no idea what else Ironside might have discovered.

Roland directed the taxi cab driver back to Frank's apartment. When he got out, he gave him the exact amount of the fare. He knew it wasn't a good idea not to tip the cab driver. The driver likely would remember him because of it. However, after he and Frank wasted Ironside, they were out of San Francisco anyway. Right now, he had to warn Frank about what he'd found out.

Roland knocked on the apartment door with the code knock he and Frank had prearranged. The door opened immediately. Roland pushed his way past Frank. "We have a potential problem."

"And that would be?" Frank asked.

"I was over at police headquarters. I watched Ironside's man come out of the building. He was carrying a manila envelope."

"Yeah, so what."

"Frank, he came out of the Police lab. What the hell do you think Ironside was checking on?"

"My guess is he was looking for prints on that money."

"And your prints will be found on it, right?"

Hunt sighed. "I never thought Ironside would find the money. It never occurred to me that I should remove my fingerprints from the money. Yes, he definitely will find my fingerprints."

Roland reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a beer. After twisting off the cap, he took a long swig of the brew. "I think we need to vacate this apartment and go someplace else. I've no idea what else Ironside may discover, but I don't think we can take the chance of staying here. I've a feeling he will be coming after you."

"I think you're right. He'll be looking for you too as soon as he is informed you have escaped. Let's gather up our belongings and get out of here."

Roland smiled. "Belongings? What belongings? I don't have a thing in this world."

"Well, I don't either. So, let's just get the hell out of here before Ironside comes after us. I don't want him spoiling our plans for him." Frank stood up, and he and Roland left the apartment.

3

Eve and Mark could tell that Ironside was becoming impatient. It had been two hours since Carl left the office to go to the Police lab. They both knew the chief was anxious to find out if Hunt's fingerprints were on the money. They understood why he was anxious, but the fingerprints alone wouldn't the enough to arrest Frank Hunt for the murder of Zack Hill. Something much more substantial would be needed to tie him to the crime.

"Eve, call Carl's cell phone," Ironside bellowed.

"Chief, I only called it just a few minutes ago. If Carl could answer the phone, he would've done so already. You need to give him time," Eve said, trying to ease her boss' impatience.

The chief looked at his watch. "He's had two hours. How long does it take to pick up lab reports?"

Eve looked over at Mark who just shook his head. Both had experienced the chief's moods. It was a waste of time trying to soothe him. He wouldn't settle down until he heard from Carl.

The door to the office opened and Lieutenant Reese walked in. Ironside turned to see his lieutenant coming down the ramp. He headed directly for his boss and sat down beside him.

The detective waited for Carl to speak. He could tell by the look on his face the news was good. When he could wait no longer, he barked, "Hunt's prints were on the money, weren't they." He was confident they were since the bag had the bank's name on it.

"That's right, Chief, but that wasn't all. We found blood on some of the money and inside the bag. It wasn't much, but it was enough. I had them compare the DNA to Zack Hill. It matched."

Ironside turned sharply to Carl. "That's all we need. There's no way he's going to be able to explain how that blood got there. His fingerprints are all over the money and Hill's blood completes the case. Carl, get out a warrant for his arrest. We got him this time."

Carl left the office to get a warrant. Ironside turned to Eve and ordered, "Find a couple of officers who are in the area of Hunt's apartment. Have them watch Hunt until we can get there. I don't want him taking off. He saw us pick up the money. He knows what we've got. Hunt isn't going to hang around and wait for us to arrest him."

Before Eve could make the call, the phone rang. She picked it up and announced,"Chief Ironside's office."

"Eve, is the chief in?" Warden Leydon asked.

"Just a moment, Warden, he's right here." She turned to her boss and informed him,"It's Warden Leydon. He wants to speak to you."

Ironside punched the lighted line and said, "Hello, Warden, what can I do for you?"

"I'm afraid I have some bad news, Chief."

"What bad news?"

"Roland Hubbard has escaped the prison."

"How in the devil did he do that?" Ironside growled.

"He killed a guard, took his uniform, and walked right out the front gate."

"All right, we'll get an APB out on him. I'll need a description."

"I don't think you understand. He was Frank Hunt's cellmate. I have no doubt he will try to find Hunt."

"Damn it!" Ironside cursed. "I've got some bad news for you too. We just located the money that Hunt stole from that bank. His fingerprints were all over it. But, Warden, there's more. There were traces of blood on the money and inside the bag. They match the DNA of Zack Hill."

"Oh God!" The warden agonized. "I'm sorry, Bob. I should've listened to you. Now I've turned a murderer loose on society."

"You did what you thought was right. You have to go with your gut instinct. He behaved himself and fooled everyone at the prison. There's no use crying over spilled milk. What's done is done. The important thing is that we find these two. Hunt alone is dangerous. But, if the two of them are together, they're doubly dangerous. Don't worry, we'll find them."

"Please let me know when you do"

"Will do," Ironside said and hung up the phone. He turned his chair slightly to see where Eve was. She was at the desk on the phone arranging for the officers needed to keep an eye on Hunt.

When she finished, she came directly over to the chief. "Okay, we have two plainclothes policemen headed for Hunt's apartment. They'll be waiting for further instructions."

"Eve, call downstairs and see if Carl Reese is still in the building. With Ed out of town, I want Reese with me to help with the arrest. Call Officers Duffy and Belding, and have them report immediately to Frank Hunt's apartment. Also, have a couple of squad cars report there as well. Join us as soon as you're done. Mark!"

"I'm right here, Chief," the young man called from the kitchen.

"Let's go." Ironside turned his chair around and wheeled toward the ramp. Mark grabbed his jacket from the railing, pushed Ironside up the ramp, and the two of them left the office.

Once on the road, Mark asked his boss, "What are the chances Hunt will still be there?"

"They're not good," the chief admitted. "I purposely made sure he was following us when we picked up the money. He knows we have it, and he knows he handled that money after killing Zack Hill."

"I don't understand, Chief. He shot Hill and those officers. How could he get Hill's blood all over the money?"

"That is a question we will let Mister Hunt answer. The only way he could have gotten the blood on that money was to have been there when Zack was murdered. He knows that. he also knows that once I found out, I'd come after him. He's not going to hang around, Mark."

The phone in the van rang. Ironside picked it up and barked into the speaker, "Ironside."

"Chief, it's Carl. I have the warrant. The judge didn't hesitate when I showed him the evidence."

"All right, Carl. We are headed to Frank Hunt's apartment right now. Meet us there. And Carl, Roland Hubbard escaped from prison after he murdered a guard and took his uniform. Chances are he located Hunt and is with him right now."

"Roger that, Chief. I'm on my way."

"Step on it, Mark! At the speed you're driving, Hunt and Hubbard could crawl out of that apartment and get away."

"Okay, Chief, but if we get a ticket, you'll be the one to pay it."

"No one is going to ticket this van," Ironside growled.

Sanger picked up speed, weaving in and out of traffic until he arrived at Frank Hunt's apartment. He slammed on the brakes, and the van came to an abrupt stop.

Ironside looked at him and snarled, "Where did you take driver's training?"

"I didn't. I taught myself how to drive," Mark said as he got out of the van.

"That explains it," Ironside said sarcastically as he wheeled his chair onto the lift. He pressed the button, the van doors opened, and the lift moved forward and then down. After riding it to the sidewalk, he wheeled off the tray. He was met by Lieutenant Carl Reese, Officer Fran Belding, and Officer Duffy.

"There's been no activity, Chief," Carl told him.

"No sign of either one of them?" Ironside looked down the street at the apartment building we're Frank Hunt resided.

"Not according to the two officers who were first on the scene."

"Do you think we're too late, Chief?" Fran asked.

He looked at her and said, "We won't know until we go in, will we?"

Fran smiled demurely and responded, "No, we won't."

"And we won't go in if everyone stands around here."

"Ready when you are, Chief," Fran said.

"Carl, you take Fran and go around to the back. Make sure they don't go out the back door of the apartment building. Duffy, take a couple officers and go in the front."

Eve Whitfield pulled her car to a stop and got out. She hurried over to the others. When Ironside saw her, he ordered, "Eve, you back up Duffy." Ironside had the other police officers surround the apartment building.

He hated this part of police work. There was a day when he'd lead the officers in the front door. The assassin's bullet ended those days for him. All he could do now was wait for his officers to do their job.

He watched Carl and Eve go in. After a few minutes, Eve came out of the building. She walked directly over to her boss. Shaking her head, she said, "The apartment is empty, Chief. No sign of either of them. We do know there were two men in there. There are two empty beer bottles and two sets of uneaten food on the table."

"That means Roland Hubbard is with him." Ironside waited until his men completed a search of the apartment. He could see Duffy and Carl headed in his direction. "Any clue as to where they went?"

Carl shook his head. "Nothing, Chief. We found heroin, so he's in violation of his parole."

"We don't need that to pick him up," Ironside said. "Eve, call his place of employment just in case he's working," Ironside ordered.

The policewoman removed her cellphone from her purse and dialed the number. She was informed Hunt didn't come in to work and hadn't called in either. She relayed the information to the detective.

"Well, there isn't much we can do here. I want the city bottled up, Carl. Make sure they can't get out. Plaster their pictures with the entire police force. Let the boys know they're dangerous, and probably armed. Both men are murderers."

Carl nodded and headed for his vehicle. "Okay, Eve. Send everyone back to the station. "Come on, Mark, let's get out of here," Ironside growled.

Mark stepped behind the chief and began pushing his wheelchair back to the van. After Ironside was lifted into the van, Mark got behind the wheel. Suddenly, the earth below them began to shake. The van rocked back and forth.

"It's an earthquake, Mark!"

"No jive! I didn't think you put rockers on the seats of the van," Sanger shouted. Within 30 seconds the shaking stopped. "Well, that was fun. How many more of these are we going to have?"

"It's not the number of them that worries me," Ironside said. "I'm more concerned about how big they are. Sooner or later, we are going to be hit with a big one if this doesn't stop. Let's go back to the office. Leave the radio on, so we can hear any reports of damage."

Mark drove the van back to the Police station. As with the other small earthquakes they'd experience, this one hadn't caused much damage. It just shook up a few people who were already spooked by the number of small quakes San Francisco was having.

By the time they got back in the office, it was dinnertime. "Mark, fix us something to eat, will you?"

Eve and Carl entered the office and came down the ramp. The chief was sitting at the table writing on a pad of paper. When he finished, he ripped the sheet from the pad, and then tore it in half. The detective handed half of it to Carl and the other half to Eve. "These are people and addresses where Frank Hunt used to hang out. I want both of you to check them out. If you find Hunt or Hubbard, you aren't to engage them on your own. Call for backup. Is that clear?"

"It's clear, Chief," Carl said. Eve nodded in acknowledgment.

"I'm sorry, but we're going to have to work late tonight. We have to find them," Ironside said.

"It's all right, Chief. We'll find them," Eve said. They both ran up the ramp and headed out of the office.

"I'd like chili for dinner," Ironside told Mark.

"Nope, no can do," Sanger said.

"What do you mean you can't?" Ironside complained.

"We are out of chili pepper."

"How could you let that happen?"

The look on the chief's face told Mark he wasn't pleased. "It happened because we eat chili around here nearly every day."

"Go down the street and pick some up. I want chili," the chief demanded.

"All right, you're the boss." Mark headed for the ramp.

"You might try remembering that once in a while," he shouted as he watched Mark head out. Then he realized Mark didn't have the keys to the van. They were sitting on the table. "Mark!" He picked up the keys and held them in the air without looking back at his aid."It's just down the street. I'll walk." Sanger left the office.

4

Victoria Ironside picked up the books that had been shaken to the floor by the minor earthquake. She looked around the room. Her home suffered no damage, but there were books, knickknacks and objects lying everywhere. Victoria was tired of picking things up. When were the earthquakes or aftershocks, if that's what they were, going to stop?

Maybe after she ate dinner, she'd make a surprise visit on her nephew. He had access to a lot of information. Robert might be able to tell her more about what was going on. She went into the kitchen, picked up a few things, and looked in the refrigerator. Victoria didn't feel like cooking. Maybe she'd just fix herself a sandwich. While she was staring in the fridge, she heard the doorbell ring.

Victoria looked in the direction of the front door. Who could that be? She had a strict rule. Her friends knew they must call before coming over. Even Robert called her to let her know he was coming. She wasn't accustomed to having unannounced visitors. Victoria walked over to the front door. Putting her ear to it, she listened. There were two men on the other side. She could hear them talking in low voices, although she couldn't make out what they were saying.

Without opening the door, she called out, "Yes, who is it?"

"Police officers, Miss Ironside. The chief sent us over to check on you with all the earthquakes going on."

Victoria stood frozen for a moment. Why wouldn't Robert just call her? She couldn't imagine him sending someone unless it was an emergency, and this obviously wasn't the case. Finally, she decided what to do. "Thank you, but I'm fine. I will call Robert right now and let him know."

"Come on Miss Ironside, you know what the chief is like. If we don't see for ourselves that you're all right, he will blow his stack."

"Not if I call him, which I'm going to do right now, so you run along," she said.

She walked away from the door and headed for the phone. Something was really wrong. Victoria had to call Robert and let him know what was going on."

Suddenly, the door burst open. The frame was torn from the wall as one of the men kicked in the door. Victoria hurried and dialed Robert's number. The taller man of the two raced over to her and took the phone out of her hand.

"Sorry, lady, I can't let you call Ironside . . . not just yet. We'll do that later. Now, be a nice little old lady and come with us."

"I'm not going anywhere with you! Now, get out of my house!" Victoria said in a commanding voice, not that she felt very commanding at the moment. She knew she was in trouble.

The other man pulled a gun out of his jacket pocket. "We will be happy to get out of your house, but you are coming with us. Now move!" He waved the gun toward the door.

Victoria didn't see where she had any choice. From the looks of the two thugs, they were certainly capable of carrying out the threat. She kept them in front of her as she back toward the door. When she arrived at the entrance, she made a break for the hall. Unfortunately, both men were much younger and faster. They caught up with her easily.

"Try that again and I'll put a bullet in your head," Frank Hunt warned.

They led her down the sidewalk, their eyes darting all around, knowing if they were seen holding a gun on the old lady, someone would call the police. The only cop they wanted to see was the cripple in the wheelchair. Roland opened the back door of the stolen Chevrolet Tahoe and shoved Victoria inside. Frank got behind the wheel. When he heard Roland shut the door, he turned over the ignition and pulled the vehicle into the street.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Don't worry, Miss Ironside. You're old. You've lived your life and you'll be going to a better place, just like that damn nephew of yours," Frank Hunt said.

"So, this is about Robert? You won't beat him. We have seen thugs like you time and again, and he always outsmarts them."

"Not this time, lady. We're going to kill him, and you along with him."

Victoria had never seen the one man, but the other one looked familiar. Then she realized where she'd seen him. He'd been in the newspapers. His name was Frank Hunt, and he'd been released from prison against Robert's advice. When were these people going to listen to her nephew. He knew what he was doing, and he was always right. Now, someone had turned a cold-blooded murderer back on the streets. "You break the law, go to prison and then blame my nephew for it. Criminals like you really are a dumb lot."

"I told you to shut up, lady. Roland, if she opens her mouth again, knock her out. I'm not going to listen to the old bag all the way there," Frank said.

Victoria said nothing further. She could only push them so far, and she knew angering them to the point where they would act was not very smart. She only wished she had gotten through to Robert before they broke through that door. Now, she realized they were going to use her to lure him to wherever they were going. She only wished he wouldn't take the bait, but she knew he would. He would come after her regardless of the cost to himself.

5

Ironside hung up the phone. He was certain the call had come from his Aunt Victoria. Why did she hang up before he had a chance to respond? Something was wrong. He picked the phone back up and dialed her number. The phone just kept ringing with no answer. That didn't make any sense. She was just there. He knew it was her voice. Something had interrupted her from speaking to him. He didn't like it. He hung up the phone, and just before he could pick it up again to send police officers to her home, he received a call. Ironside picked up the phone once again answered, "Ironside."

"Well, hello, Chief."

He recognized the voice. "I've a warrant out for your arrest, Mister Hunt."

"I figured as much. So, I have decided that you can deliver it to me in person."

"Is Roland Hubbard with you?"

"As a matter of fact, he is."

"He's wanted for murder," Ironside said. "For that matter, so are you. Zack Hill's blood was found in the money bag."

"Yeah, well, I knew it would be. He didn't die right away. I shot him and the pigs with him. I went in because I knew Zack had a safety deposit box where he hid a diary on me. There was a chance he might have the key on him. He fought me." Hunt laughed. "He was such a bloody mess, I couldn't help but get blood all over my hands."

"You're going down, Hunt. This time you'll never get another parole hearing."

"Sorry, Chief. I have no intention of sticking around here. Mexico seems like a nice place to live. Maybe I'll be able to join one of the cartels down there. "

"You'll never even get out of San Francisco," Ironside countered.

"We'll see about that. I am about to trump your ace. You do like poker, don't you, Chief? I played a lot of it in prison. Got really good at it too. You called my bluff at the parole hearing, but I had the better hand. Everyone thought I was a model prisoner. Now, we have a new hand. You've shown yours. It's pretty good and all, but not good enough, because I'm the one with all the aces."

"You have nothing, Hunt. You won't get out of town. Every cop in the city has your picture along with Hubbard's. It's only a matter of time before we pick you up," Ironside snarled.

"I don't think so. I guess you aren't going to take my word for it, so I will have to reveal my ace. Say hello to your Aunt Victoria."


	12. Chapter 12

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Earthquake in San Francisco

Chapter 12

1

Ironside hung up the phone. He could feel the rage within him begin to rise. If there was one thing he hated it was definitely when criminals used cowardly tactics to get to him. That included his family and friends. Victoria was his only living aunt. His mother and father had been gone for years now. Victoria had never married. Robert Ironside felt an obligation to look after his aunt.

He had believed she had no children. That was until Victoria decided to investigate an adoption agency that was kidnapping children and selling them to childless couples at a high price. She'd gotten herself into trouble, but didn't feel she could ask for her nephew's help. She was being blackmailed by the owner of the agency. He found out that she had a child out of wedlock when she was very young. The child was stolen from her and placed by an agency in adopted home. Victoria kept the secret for 50 years. She was afraid of losing the respect of her nephew, so she attempted to solve the problem on her own.

Ironside was able to protect her from the owners of the agency. In his investigation, he found out about Victoria's son. The detective arranged a reunion between Victoria and her long-lost son.

Once again, he was forced to protect her against those trying to hurt him. He'd been given instructions as to how he could save her life. Ironside wasn't kidding himself. Frank Hunt and Roland Hubbard had no intention of allowing either one of them to leave alive. Hunt wanted revenge, and his kind of revenge was death. He had nothing to lose because Ironside had the evidence to put him back into prison for the murder of Zack Hill.

His instructions were to come to the newly-opened Trans Tower. With its construction, it became the tallest building in San Francisco. With a total of 84 floors, it was used entirely for business offices. Although every office space in the tower was not occupied, most were. Frank Hunt had demanded that he come alone and arrive at ten o'clock in the evening.

He knew he would get an argument from his staff. Each one of them was aware that Hunt's intention was to kill him. He had no choice but to keep the information from them. The detective would not take chances with his aunt's life.

He knew Hunt would get into the building even at that hour. Likely, no one would be working that late and the building would be locked. Yet, from his experience, criminals were never stopped by locked doors. No doubt, Hunt and Hubbard would be waiting for him when he arrived.

He looked around the office. Mark was in his room studying for an exam. The door was closed. Ironside would not disturb him. He would be on his own this time. There wouldn't be any staff to back him up. He simply couldn't take the chance that Hunt would kill Victoria. Frank Hunt was a cold-blooded killer. If he saw any police or members of Ironside staff, the chief had no doubt he would kill her in retaliation.

Victoria was in trouble because of him. He and only he could get her out of it. He began looking around his office for things to protect himself with. If he took a gun, Frank Hunt would certainly search him and discover it. There had to be other means he could use to protect them both.

Wheeling over to his desk, he began opening and searching drawers. He found a small container of pepper spray. He picked it up and placed it in his pants pocket because Hunt would likely search his suit coat pockets. It would be far more difficult for him to search his pants pockets without lifting him from his chair. He located a fingernail file and added that to his back pocket.

As he continued to look through the desk drawers, Ironside checked for anything else that he might be able to use as a weapon. There was a box of heavy-duty rubber bands in the middle drawer. He reached in and pulled out several of them and placed them under his left leg.

In the middle drawer, he removed his service revolver. Ironside thought about the times he had placed it under his leg and pulled it out to use when the thugs that thought they had the drop on him weren't looking. He wondered if he could get away with it just one more time. Shaking his head, he declined the thought and dropped the gun back into the drawer. He would have to find other ways to defend him and Victoria. Then an idea hit him!

The detective reached for the phone and dialed the kennel where Otto spent most of his time. When a feminine voice answered the phone, Ironside said, "This is Robert Ironside. I need to speak with Dunlap. He waited for his friend to come on the phone.

"Hi Chief. I wondered when you were going to pick up Otto again. It has been awhile since you took him to your office."

"I need you to do me a favor," the detective told him.

"Anything, Chief, you name it," Dunlap said.

"Take Otto over to the Trans Tower 15 minutes before ten o'clock. When I am let into the building, I want you hidden in the general vicinity. You'll have to break a window. Let Otto inside. You can't be seen doing it."

Dunlap didn't like the sound of these instructions. "What's going on, Chief? Do you need more dogs?" You know I will provide whatever you need."

"No, I just need Otto. Make sure he gets in the building. He will find me. And Dunlap, make sure he's wearing a bullet-proof vest," Ironside said.

Concerned, but knowing fully well Robert Ironside wasn't going to tell him anymore than he wanted to no matter the prodding, he agreed and hung up.

The chief looked around his office-residence again. Now he needed something of Victoria's. Otto would need to know who else he was to protect. Otherwise, he would consider anyone he came upon a threat. He didn't want his dog attacking his Aunt Victoria. He decided on a locket she had given him recently that once belonged to his mother. He placed it in the pocket of his shirt.

2

Sergeant Ed Brown looked out the window of the airliner. He hated window seats. With his tall frame, there simply wasn't enough leg room. He much preferred the aisle seat. Unfortunately, when he booked the flight, there wasn't any aisle seats left. He had been lucky enough just to be able book a straight through flight.

As he stared out the window into the clouds, he couldn't help but think about Vivian. He wasn't questioning his decision to leave. He knew it was the right one. Vivian loved him, he knew that, but she loved the stage more. Ed should have known it would never work. He loved San Francisco and the job he had with Chief Ironside. He's supposed he was just as guilty as she was. His love for his job was obviously more than his love for her, for he couldn't give up what he did either. The relationship had been doomed from the beginning, and he should have seen it. Despite knowing he did what was best for both of them, Ed had a knot in his stomach. It was one that came with heartache. It would take time to heal. No doubt, the chief would keep him busy. He had done that when Ed lost his fiancé to Tom Dayton's rage. Ironside would be perceptive enough to know that work was the best thing for Ed right now. He sat back in his seat and closed his eyes. Sleep would probably be elusive, but if not, the heartache would leave him well he slept.

3

Frank Hunt and Roland Hubbard were inside the Trans Tower. As soon as they arrived, they headed for the basement. It would be the perfect place to hide. Frank had arranged to disable the alarm system that protected the building. They would have access to turn off lights in any portion of the building to leave Ironside blind. He would be expecting them to meet him at the door. He would be disappointed. They had to make sure he didn't bring any cops with him.

Frank had warned him. If he saw any police at all, they would kill his precious aunt. He was almost certain that Ironside would do exactly what he was told to do. He wouldn't take any chances with his aunt's life.

They actually had wanted Katherine. She would have been an even better hostage to threaten the detective with. Unfortunately, when they went out to the vineyards, she wasn't there. They didn't have time to wait if they were to lure Ironside to the building. If they had known where Katherine was, they would've gone after her. Since they had no idea, their only alternative was to go to their second choice. Frank figured it would be almost as good. Other than Ironside's brother in Los Angeles, his son from Montreal, and his foster daughter, as far as he knew he had no other relatives. It didn't matter now anyway; the wheels were in motion.

"Do you think there's a chance that he will bring the police?" Roland Hubbard asked.

"No, he won't bring the police. Ironside is very arrogant. He doesn't think he's vulnerable in that wheelchair. He's about to find out different. Believe me, he'll come alone."

Hubbard wasn't convinced. "I don't know, Frank. I have a feeling he'll bring police with him. He'll just keep them out of sight."

"That won't do him any good. You see, I paid somebody to hack into their security system. The cameras are all being forwarded to my smartphone. We will be able to monitor this entire building as well as the surrounding area. If he brings cops, his aunt is a dead woman. Then I will make sure we take Ironside out with us. Either way, he is not leaving this building alive."

"You're assuming that the aunt means something to him. I've always had the feeling that nobody means anything to Ironside."

"Roland, everyone has a breaking point. For a man, it is always his wife and family. Ironside doesn't have a wife, but he has family. He's no different than any other man. You threaten them, and he'll cave."

Hubbard shook his head. "Robert Ironside has never caved on anything. I think it is important that we don't underestimate him. Many have, and they reside in jail."

Frank cocked his head to the side. He had never heard words like that come out of Roland's mouth. "Correct me if I am wrong, but are you afraid of Ironside?"

Roland smiled. "Anyone in their right mind is afraid of Ironside. It's that fear that will help you outsmart him. If you're not scared of him, you'll make mistakes, and that includes you, Frank."

Ignoring his friend's warning, Frank walked over to the massive computer boxes which controlled the lighting system of the building. He read the wording on each one until he found the one he wanted. Hunt pulled a smartphone from his pocket and brought up the application that would control the computerized boxes. He wondered if whoever invented the system where just about everything could be controlled on the internet had any idea the monster they had created.

Anything that could be controlled on the internet could be hacked into. It hadnt cost him that much money to pay off a hacker to hack into the system for him. The man made sure that Frank would be able to control the electricity and the communication system from his smartphone. If Ironside brought a smartphone with him, Frank would be able to block the signal, so that he would not be able to call for help. Nor would he be able to use any phones in the building. Hunt also had control of them.

He would leave Ironside completely in the dark. It would be much more difficult for him to fight back with the lights turned off in the building. Frank reached into the box that he had brought with him. He handed Roland a pair of night vision goggles. He pulled another one out for himself. Ironside would be blinded, but they would not. He'd been looking forward to this for a long time. Quite frankly he didn't care if he came out of it alive or dead just as long as Ironside was dead. He would pay for every minute that Frank spent in prison.

After checking his night vision goggles to be sure they were working, Frank pulled up a chair and sat down. Now, all that was left to do was wait for Ironside's arrival.

4

Robert Ironside drove his specially equipped van through the streets of San Francisco. His mind was on his Aunt Victoria who had been drawn into Frank Hunt's plans because of him. He reached on the dashboard of the van and grabbed his smartphone. The detective called his foster daughter. After speaking to Kwangsoo and Chong, he felt a bit better. They were out of town. The couple had decided to take a vacation. Since Ironside had agreed to loan Kwangsoo the money to complete his college education, they had more money to work with. They called it a vacation, but were only taking a couple days to drive north and rent a cabin. At least Ironside knew they were safe.

He worried that he had not been able to reach Katherine. She was a prime target for those that were threatening him. Despite his concern, he knew that if Hunt had her, he would certainly have let him know it. Ironside could be fairly certain she was all right. Still, he wasn't taking any chances. He couldn't call Eve or Mark without raising a red flag. They would want to know what was going on and where he was going. He couldn't involve them. This was something he had to do alone. He could think of only one person who would follow his orders to a tee, Officer Duffy. The young officer never let him down in that area. The chief called Duffy at home. The policeman lived alone in a modest apartment fitting an officer on the San Francisco Police payroll.

"Hello," Duffy answered.

"Duffy, it's Ironside."

"Hello, Chief, what's up?"

"I need you to do something for me."

Agreeable as always, Duffy replied, "Sure, Chief. What do you need?"

"I want you to locate Katherine for me. Stay with her until you hear from me."

There was silence on the other end of the phone. Then Duffy asked, "What's going on? Are you in trouble?"

"Nothing I can't handle," Ironside assured him.

"Chief, if you are in trouble, I can call Mark, Eve, and Ed."

"Ed is in New York. Mark is studying, and Eve is at home. I can't involve them, Duffy. I trust you to do as I ask."

Duffy's instincts told him the chief was indeed trouble. He'd no idea what his office had been working on, but something certainly was causing him a serious problem. Duffy could read it in his voice. "All right, I'll take care of it, but tell me where you are going."

"That's not important right now. Just take care of Katherine for me. Thanks, Duffy, I'll call you when things change." Ironside hung up the phone.

"Chief, Chief, are you there?" Duffy shouted into the phone. The line had gone dead. He sat in his recliner for a moment before picking up the television remote and turning off the big screen TV. He wanted to call Eve, Mark, and maybe Carl. Ironside was in trouble. He was sure of it. It wouldn't be the first time he headed into a dangerous situation with no backup. Duffy knew he was capable of taking care of himself. The problem was the wheelchair. He couldn't get away from someone trying to harm him.

Duffy hurried into the kitchen, grabbed his keys and cellphone from the counter and left his apartment.

Having made sure his foster daughter, son-in-law and Katherine were protected; Ironside continued toward the Trans Tower. He wasn't worried about his son or his brother. Hunt couldn't get his hands on them; they were too far away to abduct in the time frame he was operating.

He didn't know exactly what he was heading into, but felt better that Otto would be there with him. The dog would protect him with his life. The only downside was Ironside didn't want anything to happen to Otto either, so he would have to protect him as well.

He pulled the van to a stop about a block from the Trans Tower, and parked at the side of the road, unconcerned whether Dunlap would find him. The man wasn't stupid. He sensed immediately that there was a problem. He would come and with Otto. He would've liked to take him up on his offer of more dogs; it just wasn't something he could do. If Hunt saw anything as a threat to his plans, he would kill Victoria.

A van from the kennel pulled up behind him and parked. Dunlap got out of the vehicle and joined Ironside, who had lowered his wheelchair to the ground in the lift. "Okay, Chief, are you going to tell me what this is all about?"

"No," Ironside said. "You are going to have to trust me on this one."

Dunlap stood there unsure of what to do. He didn't like leaving Ironside to go into whatever it was he was going in to face, yet he knew first-hand how stubborn the detective could be. He remembered when Ironside first came to his kennels because dogs trained by his facility were failing to do their jobs in stores they were supposed to be guarding. His dogs were being rendered as harmless as puppies. Ironside decided to train with one of his dogs in order to figure out what was happening. He refused to train with any other dog except "crazy Otto." As it turned out, the detective figured out how the perpetrator was doing it, stopped him with Otto's help, and put the man behind bars. Ever since that time, the chief would pick up Otto for assignments or just to have the dog around him.

Knowing there was no sense in trying to change his friend's mind, Dunlap gave in. "Okay, how do you want to handle this?"

"First get Otto out of the vehicle so I can calm him down."

Dunlap had been so concerned about the chief; he'd noticed Otto was making a fuss, although it wasn't surprising. His sense of smell would've alerted him Ironside was near. He walked back to the rear of the van, opened the door, placed a lead on Otto's collar and brought him to Ironside. With the dog's tail wagging wildly, he barked happily and jumped into the detective's lap."

"Hello, Otto. How are you doing, boy?" Ironside grabbed both sides of the dog's neck and roughed him up playfully. After giving the German Shepherd a couple minutes to greet him, it was time to settle him down. With just a couple of words, Otto calmed and sat down beside Ironside's chair.

Robert Ironside pulled out his phone and logged into Police Headquarters. After finding what he wanted, he put the phone back into his pocket. "I am going in the back door. The cameras don't cover the left side of the area. You bring Otto, but stay in that area. Remove his lead, break a window, and help him into the building. He will find me from there."

"But Chief, it'll set off the alarm system."

"I doubt it. The alarm system will have been deactivated. Besides, they'll be too busy checking the surrounding area for police."

"I don't like this. Let me go back and get more dogs, or at least let me call Eve and Ed," Dunlap said.

"No. I'll be fine. Thanks for bringing Otto. Now, let's get started." Ironside ordered Otto to stay with Dunlap, then turned and wheeled his chair toward the Trans Tower. Dunlap and Otto followed at a distance. It was a quarter to ten, therefore Ironside didn't believe Hunt would be looking for him yet, at least he hoped not. He didn't want him to discover Otto until he was ready for him to do so.

When he arrived at the door he had been ordered to go to, he found it unlocked. The chief opened the door and went in. Glancing up at the alarm box, no lights went on. Ironside reached up and opened it. It required a key to disarm the system, just as he expected. However, he knew Hunt had already disarmed it. He closed the box and headed for the nearest elevator where he would ride it up to the 83rd floor.

Waiting a reasonable amount of time, Dunlap broke a window to the left of the door, removed Otto's lead, and hoisted the German Shepherd up through it. He turned and headed back to his van. As soon as he had the chance, he was going to call Mark in Ironside's office and alert him to what was going on.

When Ironside arrived at the elevator, he pressed the button and waited. The doors opened when the elevator arrived. Ironside backed his chair inside, pressed the button once again for the 83rd floor and what awaited him there.


	13. Chapter 13

Earthquake in San Francisco

Chapter 13

1

The elevator stopped at the 83rd floor. The doors opened. Ironside put his hands on both sides of the frame and pulled his chair into the hall. Looking down each end of the hall, he couldn't see very far. The lights were out. The only illumination available was at the bottom of each door. It didn't prove to be enough light for him to see much further than directly in front of his wheelchair. Hunt and Hubbard were obviously trying to make sure he was blinded and couldn't see them coming.

Ironside had come somewhat prepared. He pulled the cellphone out of his pocket, turned on the flashlight application and shined it down the hall. Unfortunately, it didn't go very far. Then, he knew they weren't intended to be used as a full-fledged flashlight. He was surprised how much light it did provide him.

Ironside could hear the padding of Otto's feet behind him. It never ceased to amaze him how fast the dog could locate him. The shepherd came up behind him and whined. He seemed to be able to sense that his master would want him to be quiet. Ironside patted the dog on the head. "You need to hide, boy. Go on now. I know you will be able to tell if I need help. Go now."

Without hesitation, the dog left his side. Ironside continued down the hall. Where the hell was Hunt and Hubbard? They were playing mind games with him. If they thought it would affect him they were in for a major surprise. He could play those with the best of them.

He began checking the doors as he went along. So far, all of them had been locked. Sooner or later, he would come upon one that wasn't. That would be where he would find Hunt and Hubbard.

He was nearly to the end of the hall when he found an unlocked door. Slowly, he pushed the door open. The room was dark, but not dark enough to keep the windows from reviewing the silhouette of a woman sitting in a chair. The detective could feel the knot in his stomach. He had no doubt who the woman was.

"Robert, is that you? If it is, get out of here and save yourself. I am old and I have lived my life. You have many more years ahead of you. Please, Robert, if you care about me, just leave."

It broke his heart to listen to his Aunt Victoria plead with him to protect himself and leave her behind. She had known him all of his life. Victoria should realize he would never leave her behind, even if it meant forfeiting his own life. His job was to protect and defend, and he had every intention of doing his job.

"I'm not going anywhere." He wheeled over to her. Using the flashlight on his phone, it provided enough light for him to see the face of his aunt. She had a bruise and a welt under her left eye. The anger within him began to bubble to the top. What kind of monster would beat up an elderly woman? Using his thumb, he ran it across the bruise. Hunt would pay for this; he would see to it.

The chief began untying the ropes which bound her hands. Suddenly, the lights turned on. Ironside quickly turned his chair around. Standing in the doorway was Frank Hunt.

"I have waited a long time for this, Ironside. You took 15 years of my life, and now I am going to take what's left of yours."

"Crooks like you never cease to amaze me. You break laws, you kill people, and you think there shouldn't be any consequences. Furthermore, you blame the police officers who put you behind bars. I am not responsible for the 15 years of your life you spent in prison, Mister Hunt. You solely are the one responsible. I now have the proof that you killed Zack Hill. You're going to pay for that for the rest of your life. I can guarantee the district attorney will be asking for the death penalty."

Hunt stood there with his gun pointing at Ironside, and began to laugh. "You certainly deserve your reputation. Unfortunately, you do not seem to appreciate the situation in which you find yourself. I'm not going back to prison. When I'm finished with you and the old lady, I am leaving the United States for Mexico. I'll never return here. Therefore, I'll never be tried for the murder of Hill, or you and your aunt, for that matter."

"You won't even get out of this building alive," Ironside taunted.

"We've kept a close eye on the area surrounding the building. You did as you were told and brought no one with you. By the way, your friend wasn't careful enough. I saw him leaving the building. I don't know who he was, but he certainly was not a cop."

Having not mentioned Otto, the chief was pretty sure they had not seen him. That element of surprise was still their biggest hope of getting out of the situation alive. What bothered him was Roland Hubbard. Where was he? He had expected him to be here along with Hunt. Instead, he was somewhere else in the building. It was possible that he was the one who turned on the lights as Frank Hunt entered the room.

Victoria Ironside finished removing the ropes from her hands that her nephew had loosened. She held on to them to keep Hunt from knowing she was no longer tied to the chair. He had been so confident that she'd be unable to remove the ropes, that he hadn't bothered to tie her feet to the chair.

Victoria had meant it when she told Robert to leave her behind. She was in her seventies, and had lived a good long life. Victoria would do whatever was necessary to protect her nephew. She knew he wasn't helpless just because he was in a wheelchair. He was known for getting out of dangerous situations despite his disability. Still, being in a wheelchair would make it difficult for him to protect himself under these circumstances.

"Where's Hubbard?" Ironside asked.

Hunt smiled. "Wouldn't you like to know? Forget it, Ironside. You are not leaving this building alive. I've been planning this day ever since they closed the bars on me that first day."

"Do you honestly think my officers are going to allow you to leave this building alive? If something happens to me, you will have an accident."

"And here I thought you were an honest by-the-book cop," Hunt said sarcastically.

"I am, but I can't control the whole police force. When a cop dies, they want revenge." Ironside was aware that most cops would go the extra mile to catch a cop killer. However, very few would try to take revenge and kill the perpetrator. They knew the veteran detective would arrest anyone who did. Hunt didn't know that though.

"You're bluffing, Chief. There weren't any cops anywhere near this building. I know you better than you think I do. You did exactly as you were told to do. You wouldn't do anything else with your aunt's life at stake. Now, wheel that go-cart over here. Although, I believe you did as you were told, I'm still going to make sure."

Robert Ironside wheeled his chair slowly toward Frank Hunt. He stopped directly in front of him. Staring into Hunt's eyes, he waited.

Frank Hunt step forward. Instead of pointing the gun at Ironside, he pointed the barrel at Victoria Ironside. "If you try anything, your aunt will be the first to die."

"I'm not going to try anything," Ironside assured him.

"Then you are not as smart as everyone gives you credit for. You don't seem to understand, Chief. You're going to die. If I were in your place, I'd rather go down fighting than just sit there and wait to die."

Ironside said nothing. He would just wait for an opportunity to present itself. It'd better do so soon if he were to get himself and his aunt out of danger.

Hunt reached into the pockets of the detectives suit coat. There he found a rubber band, but he did not find the pepper spray or the fingernail file. Ironside had moved them into the sleeve of his shirt.

"That's it, Chief? That's all you brought, one heavy-duty rubber band? It seems you're not as smart as everyone makes you out to be. I would've thought you would have tried to slip a gun somewhere in that go-cart of yours."

"I didn't need to. You're not leaving this building. The police will pick you up as soon as you do. In fact, they will probably be storming this building shortly," Ironside bluffed.

"You must really think I'm stupid. You didn't bring any police with you. I doubt very highly you told anybody you were coming here. I don't know who the man was that was with you, but if he had informed anybody you were here, the police would've already made their move. It won't work, Ironside. You're bluffing, and we both know it."

"You don't know anything. You're just a crook that was able to pull the wool over the warden's eyes. But that won't help you now. We have the proof. Your time is up; now give me the gun. You're under arrest for the murder of Zack Hill."

The look on Hunt's face soured. "I've had just about enough of you. I waited a long time for this very moment. It's time for you to die, Ironside." Hunt pointed the gun directly at Ironside's head.

"No!" shouted Victoria Ironside. She got up out of her chair and headed toward Frank Hunt.

Hunt reacted quickly. He turned the gun from Ironside to Victoria. The chief rammed his chair into Hunt's leg. He bent over in pain, but didn't drop the gun. Ironside went for his gun, but Hunt quickly raised it, and pointed it back at the detective. Before he could get the shot off, the room begin to shake.

Ironside realized immediately that it was another earthquake. This time, it was different. This was the larger earthquake they had been talking about. Pictures fell off the wall. The desk in the room slid toward the other side and hit the wall. Everything on it fell to the floor. The chairs that had been in front of the desk overturned.

Ironside had trouble controlling his chair as it begin to roll with the shaking. A rather large bookcase beside Victoria Ironside began to tip. Chief yelled at his aunt, however, her reaction was to look in the direction of the bookcase. As it tipped and begin to fall over, Ironside knew she'd never get out of its way.

Otto burst into the room. Sensing Ironside's friend was in danger, the shepherd headed straight for Victoria Ironside. Leaping into the air, the dog hit her head on, knocking her out of the path of the falling bookcase.

The bookcase slid backwards, crashing through the window and falling 83 floors to the pavement below. As Ironside's chair began to roll toward the open space where the window used to be, he reached down and locked the wheels.

Glancing over at Frank Hunt, the chief realized he still had control of his gun. The detective had to disarm the man before he got off another shot, possibly killing him or his aunt.

The building continued to sway. Looking out the window, and trying to control his sliding chair at the same time, Ironside could see sections of the building across the street had broken off, and were crashing to the pavement below.

Frank Hunt pointed his gun once again at the wheelchair-bound detective. He pulled the trigger as he lost his footing, and the bullet embedded in the ceiling. Falling to the floor, a filing cabinet slid toward him and tipped over. He rolled to his left and avoided the cabinet slamming into him.

The building continued to sway and shake. Any kind of control was nearly impossible. Even Otto, who realized the man on the floor was a threat, could not control his footing as he tried to get to Frank Hunt.

"Otto, get her out of here!" Ironside shouted at the dog. Crawling on the floor, the shepherd made his way to Victoria, who was also on the floor with her hands over her head as parts of the ceiling begin to collapse.

With persistence, Otto made it to Victoria. He grabbed her by the sleeve of her jacket. Whining, he began to pull her toward the door. Still crouched down, he made progress as the building continue to sway. A heavy floor lamp tipped over and fell just short of Victoria and Otto. The dog continued to drag Victoria to the door.

Ironside was in his own battle with his wheelchair. Despite the locked wheels, the wheelchair was inching its way toward the open space where the window used to be. The detective attempted to grab on anything close to him, but to no avail. The building was swaying in the direction of the broken window.

Frank Hunt rose to his knees. He had lost control of the gun in his attempt to avoid the falling file cabinet. He knew he had to reach the gun before Ironside did. If that happened, surely the detective would shoot him. Sliding toward the window, Hunt grabbed the filing cabinet. A few feet away, the gun was sliding toward the window as well. He laid back down on the floor and crawled toward the gun. When he reached it, he picked it up and placed it in his jacket pocket. He would worry about Ironside later. Right now, he simply wanted to survive the earthquake.

Ironside looked up to see that Otto successfully got Victoria out of the room. He continued to struggle with his wheelchair. Grabbing anything he could, he tried to slow its movement toward the window. As the building continued to sway and shake, Ironside moved with it. Unfortunately, he was moving in a deadly direction.

The detective was losing the battle to control the chair and to keep it from going out the window. His chair was only inches away from falling 83 floors downward. With the room in shambles, there was nothing further for the detective to grab onto. His chair rolled out the window.

Frank Hunt watched Ironside fall out of the window. He felt cheated. The earthquake cheated him out of killing the damn cripple himself. At least, he knew he was dead. Ironside would've known that Hunt was responsible for his death as he plunged 83 floors to the pavement. As much as he would like to stick around and see the detective splashed all over the cement below, Frank knew this was a perfect time to get out of San Francisco. There would be plenty of confusion, and no one would be looking for him. He had to find a way down to the basement to help Rolland if he needed it. The two of them would get out of this god-forsaken city and head for Mexico.

Ironside was in a free fall. His chair had already plunged to the ground. If he didn't find something to stop his fall, he was going to die. Below him, he spotted a flagpole which displayed the American flag. The flag was gigantic, so the detective thought it might take his weight despite the speed he was falling toward the ground.

He would have to time it perfectly and grab the pole in hopes that it held. As he approached the pole, he reached out. He missed it with one hand, but grabbed it with the other. Fortunately, the flag was huge. Therefore, the pole was extremely thick and heavy. Despite the heaviness of the pole, Ironside's weight bent it way down. He heard it crack, but it held. He reached up with his other hand and grab the pole. Immediately, he began moving toward the building to get beyond the crack in the pole. If it broke while he was on the wrong side of it, it would mean certain death. He moved slowly in hopes that his movement did not completely sever the pole in half. Once beyond it, Ironside assessed his situation. Although the detective had extreme upper body strength due to his disability, he wasn't kidding himself. He would not be able to hold on for long. He found himself in front of a large pane glass window.

A normal man with the use of his legs could kick the window until it broke. His disability would make it extremely difficult. His only choice was to attempt to swing his entire body toward the window. His concern was that the jolt might loosen his grip on the pole. He had no choice, he had to try. He would find it more difficult than he thought it would be. The pole pointed outward away from the building. He was holding it with both hands and his body was pointing sideways. He realized he would have to change his position so that both hands were together and pointing him toward the building. Without the use of his legs swinging back and forth was difficult, yet the chief was determined to do so. He kept moving back and forth until he thought he had enough leverage to swing himself into the building. He figured he had one chance only. Ironside was supporting his entire weight with his arms and was tiring quickly.

With one big swing, he flung himself toward the window. It did not shatter, but it did break. The window look like a gigantic spider. Ironside knew he was losing his grip on the pole. He had one last chance to break the window. He began swinging again and threw himself toward the window. This time the window shattered. Ironside let go of the pole and was propelled into the building. Exhausted, with muscles that felt like rubber, he laid there for a moment. Suddenly, he heard a crack and a large piece of glass at the top of the window came crashing toward him. The detective rolled to his right. His upper torso moved with him, but his crippled legs did not. The sharp glass dropped and penetrated his left leg. Ironside would have yelled out in pain if he had felt it. His paralyzed legs gave him no indication that the glass had gone through his suit coat pants and into his leg. He crawled away from the window to avoid any more falling glass. Sitting up, he pulled the glass from his leg, which immediately started bleeding. Not caring for the speed of the blood flow, he undid his belt and tied it above the wound. He was afraid it would not hold for long. The wound was deep and bleeding out was a real threat.

2

As Sergeant Brown's plane came down the runway, it began to veer to the right, and then to the left. He knew exactly what the problem was. It was an earthquake, and a bad one.

The captain came over the loudspeaker, "Folks, San Francisco is having an earthquake. We are going to take the plane back up into the air. Please be sure that your seat belts are securely locked."

The plane continued down the runway and began speeding up. Ed worried the pilot would not be able to pick up enough speed to take off before they veered off the runway completely. People on the plane were screaming. A full-blown panic existed in the cabin. Ed felt helpless. His friends were in the city right smack-dab in the middle of an earthquake. He was worried about the chief. In a wheelchair, he would have no control over it. Thank God, Mark and Eve would be there to help him. The sergeant wished the pilot had chosen to attempt to land the plane. He understood why he did not. He was not the only passenger, and the pilot was responsible for the lives of all those aboard. Still, all the detective wanted to do was get to police headquarters to his friends and the city he loved.

As the plane lifted in the air, Brown looked out the window. He could see the lights of the buildings shaking and swaying as they flew over the Golden Gate Bridge. Ed watched the bridge sway back and forth, but it seemed to be holding. Chunks of buildings were falling to the ground. This time there would be extensive damage to the city.

3

Mark Sanger was studying when the earthquake hit. His chair was moving underneath him. The building seemed to be shaking and swaying. They had gone through several small earthquakes in the past couple of days, but he immediately knew this one was different. It was much bigger and more dangerous than the previous earthquakes. Mark had only one thing on his mind.

"Chief!" he shouted. Mark stood up from his chair an attempted to go into the main room where he knew his boss had been sitting. The floor moved underneath him. He lost his balance and fell into the pool table. Holding on to it, he went around and headed toward the main room of the chief's office residence. Pushing open the door and trying to keep his balance, Mark entered the main room. Robert Ironside was nowhere to be seen. "Chief!" he called out again. Still, there was no response from the detective.

Mark ran up the ramp and checked the bathroom. Every step of the way, he was holding on to something in order to keep his balance. When he did not find the chief in the bathroom, he headed for his bedroom. There was no sign of him there either.

He did the only thing he could think of doing when he couldn't locate his boss, he stood in the archway of his boss's bedroom door and waited for the earthquake to calm while objects and chairs fell to the floor.

4

Eve Whitfield was watching the news when the room began to sway. The television tipped over and fell to the floor. The chair she was sitting in began moving around the room. Pictures fell off the walls. She could hear small appliances on the counter in the kitchen fall to the floor. Her bookcase tipped and missed her by inches.

Her first concern was not for her own safety but, for Mark and the chief. Ed was safe because she knew he was in New York. Right now, she was helpless to help anyone. All Eve could do was wait for the earthquake to subside.

5

After the earthquake stopped, Victoria was determined to get back to her nephew. He could need her help. She started back down the hall, but Otto stepped in front of her. He lowered his head and growled softly. It was not a threatening gesture, but rather a warning. The dogs seem to sense Victoria would be in danger if she went back to that room. Otto grabbed her sleeve in his mouth and pulled her toward the stairway. Victoria was not completely confident that the dog wouldn't attack her. So, she followed him to the stairway as he led her down to the 82nd floor. Victoria was concerned that the shepherd was trying to lead her out of the building. She was in her 70s. She didn't think she could go down 83 flights of stairs. Nor did she want to leave her nephew unprotected from that maniac. Every time she tried to turn back, the dog stopped her.

They had gone down several flights of stairs. Victoria had lost count. Otto continue to lead her downward. He stopped on the landing of the next level. Victoria looked to see why the canine hesitated. The stairs were gone. They apparently had collapsed during the earthquake. Now what? They couldn't go any further.

Then, Victoria heard a voice. It was not that of her nephew's. He would be stuck on the 83rd floor. The voice unmistakably belong to Frank Hunt. He was cursing at his current situation. What bothered Victoria even more was he was headed in her direction.


	14. Chapter 14

Earthquake in San Francisco

Chapter 14

1

Roland Hubbard pushed the cabinet off his lower body. He reached down and rubbed his shin. He thought the bone running down his leg was broken. Standing up, he almost screamed in pain. Now he was sure something was broken. It didn't matter, he had to get out of the building. It could very well be crawling with police soon. He couldn't get caught here. Roland would be arrested for sure.

He thought about his friend. He would be up on the 83rd floor when the earthquake hit. With the way the building shook and swayed, there would be extensive damage. Roland thought about Frank Hunt. He'd been his closest friend for many years now. He should go up and see if he was all right, but could he take the chance? His leg was paining him badly now, and he wasn't even sure how long he could actually walk on it. If he went upstairs, it would be slow going. Roland didn't even know if he could get up there. Certainly, the elevators weren't operating any longer. There wasn't any way he could walk up 82 flights of stairs. He probably couldn't even walk up one flight with the shape his leg was in.

When it came down to it, Roland Hubbard decided if it was either Frank or him, he was not about to get caught again, not even for Frank. He was not spending another day in prison. Frank would take care of Ironside. Hopefully, he would get out of the Tower. Roland would try to find him at a later date. The two of them could head to Mexico together.

Hubbard pulled his cellphone out of his pocket. Before leaving the building, he would let Frank know he was leaving and where they could meet up. He hated like hell leaving him behind, but he wasn't going back to prison . . . not again. No doubt Frank wouldn't go back to prison for him either.

Calling the number on a burner phone, Roland waited for Frank to answer. A recorded voice came on and said all circuits were busy. Naturally, everyone was calling for help instead of helping themselves. Hubbard found it disgusting how people always depended on someone else to help them. He had never depended on anyone in his life; not even Frank. He took care of himself. Others could do the same.

Roland Hubbard headed for the door of the basement. He hoped to God the entry way was not blocked or the stairs destroyed. He had to get out of the building. Roland didn't know if the building was in danger of collapsing, but one thing was for sure, he had no intention of being inside if it did.

He arrived at the stairway. Opening the door, he looked up the stairs. They seemed to be in tack. Hubbard began climbing the stairs. The pain in his leg was almost unbearable. He would have to go to the doctor he and Frank used anytime they were injured. Going to the hospital was out of the question. He couldn't take the chance someone would recognize him from a police photo passed around. Still, he had to get medical help for his broken leg. Of all times for an earthquake to hit; one would think the damn thing could have waited until he and Frank had gotten out of the godforsaken city of San Francisco. He would be happy to put the city behind him. It had never been anything but a source of trouble for both him and Frank.

After dragging himself up the stairs, Roland headed for the door to the street. He would have run if it weren't for the pain with every step he took. As it was, he was almost dragging the leg. Every time he put his weight on it, he felt like screaming; the pain was so bad.

Arriving at the door, he pushed it open and headed into the street. People were running in all directions. Where the hell did all these people come from? When he and Frank had arrived in the building, the streets were not that crowded. Shaking his head, he realized he really didn't care. Too bad the damn buildings didn't fall on the bunch of them. As he dragged his leg and stumbled away from the building, he noticed what appeared to be a wheelchair smashed into pieces.

Roland dragged his painful leg over to the chair. He smiled when he saw the name Robert Ironside on the back of the top part of the chair. Frank had thrown the damn cripple detective out the window. San Francisco's protector had finally met his match in Frank Hunt. He looked around, but did not see Ironside's body splattered all over the pavement. There wasn't anyway he could have survived a fall from the 83rd floor of the building. He didn't understand where he was. He should be in the same general area of the smashed wheelchair.

Hubbard stopped when he was tapped on the shoulder. Roland jerked and turned around to see a San Francisco police officer. He put his hand inside his jacket pocket. He could see recognition in the officer's eyes.

The police officer attempted to draw his service revolver. Unfortunately for the young man, Hubbard was faster. He shot the officer in the chest. Looking around to see if anyone witnessed the shooting, Hubbard realized everyone was more worried about themselves than they were about the police officer. He limped away from the scene. He had to get to the only doctor he knew would treat him without turning him in.

2

Sergeant Ed Brown impatiently waited until the big jet plane landed at the Mineta San Jose International Airport. Closing his eyes, Ed couldn't believe he was being dropped off this far away from San Francisco when it was in crisis. He was worried about his friends, but mostly he was worried about the chief. If Mark was with him, he would be all right. The chief didn't always take Mark with him. He was capable of driving himself, and his van was equipped for him to do so.

As the plane taxied over to the gate, Ed stood up, pulled his luggage down from the overhead bin and waited. He just wanted to get off the plane and call the chief's office. He didn't even realize he had forgotten all about his troubles with Vivian. The sergeant hadn't given her a thought ever since the earthquake hit as they were attempting to land in San Francisco.

"This is the captain speaking. All flights to San Francisco have been cancelled until further notice. There was damage to some runways, and they are using the one that wasn't damaged to land emergency personnel. The airlines have arranged for rooms for those of you who's final destination was San Francisco. Those of you who were going on to other cities can make arrangements for other flights. Thank you for flying with us and pray for the citizens of San Francisco."

Ed waited until the people in front of him began filing out of the plane. With his luggage in hand, he followed them out into the airport. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he dialed Ironside's office. He listened to a recording say all lines were busy, which probably meant the lines were down. Brown headed out of the airport and flagged down a taxi. After putting his suitcase into the taxi, he slid in beside it.

"Where to, mister?" The cab driver made no attempt to be friendly.

Ed wasn't in the mood for conversation anyway, so he told him, "Police Headquarters."

The cabbie eyed Brown in the rear view mirror. He could spot a cop a mile away, and this guy was a cop. In fact, he looked familiar, but he just couldn't place him. Since he really didn't care who he was, he pulled the taxi out of the airport and headed for Police Headquarters.

They arrived there shortly after. Ed took a look at the meter, pulled out the correct amount of money and added a tip, despite the fact the man didn't really deserve it. Grabbing his suitcase, Brown slid out of the vehicle and barely pulled the suitcase with him before the cab driver began to pull away. Ed kicked the door shut with his foot. Shaking his head, he hurried into the building.

He looked around for someone who looked authoritative. Basically, all he could spot were officers in uniform. Ed walked up to what he was sure was the duty desk. He pulled out his San Francisco police credentials and showed them to the officer. "My name is Ed Brown. I work for Chief Robert Ironside in San Francisco. I need to speak with the ranking officer in charge."

The officer smiled. "I knew I recognized you!" The smile left his face. "Sorry about your city. I hear it is a real mess."

"Thanks," Ed said. There wasn't really anything else to say. He just wanted to see the officer in charge. He had to get home.

The officer picked up the phone and punched in four numbers. After waiting a moment, he said, "Can you tell him there is a Sergeant Ed Brown from San Francisco to see the captain? He works for Chief Ironside." He listened for a few more moments and then said, "I'll send him right in." After hanging up the phone, he turned to Ed. "The captain will see you right away." Pointing down the hall, he directed Ed, "At the end of that hall, turn left. The captain's office is the last one on the right."

"Thanks." Brown wasted no time on small talk. He turned around and walked swiftly in the direction of the captain's office. At the end of the hall, he turned left as he'd been told to do. Arriving at the captain's office, he knocked on the door.

Sergeant Brown didn't have to wait long; the door opened almost immediately. A man in plain clothes who was just as tall as Ed, only with more bulk, put out his hand. He had gray receding hair and a nose that look more like the beak of a bird than a nose. "Sergeant Brown, it is a pleasure to meet you. I have never met your boss, but I certainly have heard a lot about him. Come in, come in. I'm Captain Sherman Smith."

Ed followed Captain Smith into a moderately sized office. It certainly wasn't anywhere as big as the chief's office, but then most never were. Not even Commissioner Randall's office was as big as the chief's.

"Please Sergeant, sit down." Smith indicated a chair in front of his desk. "Can I get you something, a cup of coffee or a soda perhaps?"

"No thank you, Captain, I'm fine."

"Okay then, what can I do for you. Does this have something to do with the earthquake?"

Ed nodded. "It does. Captain, do you have police choppers?"

"Yes, of course." Smith's eyes lit up realizing where Brown was heading with this. "You have not been able to fly to San Francisco, have you?"

"No," Ed admitted. "The earthquake hit just as my plane was landing. It lifted back into the air and flew here. Captain, I know it is asking a lot, but "I am worried about my boss. I can't get through to his office."

"After an earthquake, Sergeant Brown, I don't think that is unusual. The communication lines would be jammed up."

"I am aware of that, but being out of contact worries me."

Sherman Smith smiled. "I take it you would like us to fly you to San Francisco?"

"Yes, sir. That is exactly what I was hoping for. You would be reimbursed by the San Francisco Police Department," Ed assured him.

"Are you certain of that? Chief Ironside does have a boss . . . Commissioner Randall, isn't it?"

Ed smiled. "Yes, the chief has a boss, but he normally gets his way anyway."

Captain Smith roared with laughter. "Yes, I have heard he is a very persuasive man."

"Yes, sir, that he is."

"Well, Sergeant, I think we can help you out. No reimbursement necessary. After all, I have no doubt you would come to our aide if the earthquake was centered in this area. Believe me, we felt it. We have some minor damage, but nothing major." He picked up the phone, dialed a number and said, "Walter, start up the chopper and find one of the pilots. We need to fly a San Francisco police officer to his city."

3

Victoria Ironside looked around. There was nowhere to hide to conceal her presence. She was about to be discovered by Frank Hunt. She knew if Hunt got hold of her, he wouldn't hesitate to use her against Robert. He had already done so. If it had not been for the earthquake, he may have succeeded.

Robert must have gotten away from Hunt. At least she hoped he had. She could not bear the thought of anything happening to him. He was more like a son to her than a nephew. Victoria had known him his entire life. She watched him grow from a boy into the fine man he was today. To her, and to many others, he represented everything that a man should be. Oh, he put on that gruff exterior, but she knew that was because he was in a position of command. Robert commanded respect . . . and got it.

She had to find out if he was all right, but right now she had to contend with her most immediate problem . . . Frank Hunt. She looked around for something to defend herself with. Nothing! There wasn't even a board or anything she could hit Hunt with. Victoria watched as Otto stepped in front of her. The fur on his back was standing straight up, and the dog had a low growl in his throat. Victoria recognized at this very moment Otto was her only hope to keep Frank Hunt from taking control of her again.

Otto moved back to the wall and stood on his hind legs. Victoria watched the dog; puzzled by his actions. Was he actually trying to conceal himself in preparation for an attack on Hunt? That was ridiculous! Dogs didn't think like human beings. Yet, she knew the German Shepherd was a very special dog, much like her nephew was a very special man.

Hunt walked toward the staircase. A grin spread across his face when he spotted Victoria Ironside. Glancing at the stairs, he laughed. "Trying to get away, Miss Ironside? You want to go down those stairs, do you? I'll tell you what; I'll help you do it. I am going to throw you down them. By the way, your crippled nephew went out the window during the earthquake. The police will find their boss splattered all over the pavement below. I would have personally liked to have ended his life, but I guess it doesn't matter. The son-of-a-bitch is dead, and that is all that matters. However, I made him a promise. I promised him I would kill you, and that is exactly what I intend to do."

Hunt stepped onto the landing. When he did, Otto dropped on all four feet, then leaped it the air at Frank Hunt. It gave Victoria the opportunity she needed to get away from him. She ran down the hall as fast as her legs would carry her. She would descend the stairs there. When she arrived, she found the same situation as the other end. The staircase was gone. She wasn't getting down this way. She would have no choice but to go up. Why didn't she think of that when she first noticed Hunt. She should have reversed and gone right back up the stairs. Why hadn't Otto forced her up the stairs? Why had the dog decided to confront Hunt? Victoria didn't know. She only knew at this point, the only way was up. She began climbing the stairs.

At the other end of the hall, Otto went for Hunt's throat, but he'd been prepared for that. He stepped to the side. Otto compensated by clamping his teeth down on Hunt's gun wrist. The convict screamed in pain as the dog's teeth punctured his skin. He doubled his fist up and swung at the dog's head. The Shepherd dug deeper and moved to the left. Suddenly, the building began to shake with an aftershock. Frank Hunt fell backwards into the wall and hit his head. His world turned black and he passed out. Otto took off down the hall in the direction Victoria had gone.

4

Officer Eve Whitfield ran up the ramp of Chief Ironside's office. As soon as the earthquake had subsided, she contacted the police department through her police handset in the car. Despite the mess the city was in, a police cruiser had been able to reach her and take her to Police Headquarters. Mark met her at the end of the ramp. When she didn't see Chief Ironside anywhere, she asked, "the chief?"

"I don't know? He's not here. I checked the entire office," Mark told her.

"Didn't he leave a note? He always lets us know where he is, so we don't worry." Eve's voice was showing signs of the panic she felt.

"No, he left nothing."

The door to the office opened, Sergeant Ed Brown came in and hurried down the ramp. Looking around, but not seeing the boss, he asked, "Where's the chief?"

"We don't know," Eve answered before Mark could get the words out.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Ed demanded.

"Like Eve said, we don't know. He didn't leave a note."

"He hasn't called in?" Ed knew he was being demanding to the point of being unreasonable, but he was worried about the chief.

"The phone lines are busy." Eve pointed out the obvious.

"Eve, he has an emergency line in the van. It can always get through."

"I know that, Ed. He hasn't used it." She kept her voice calm. She knew Ed's rising voice was only out of concern for the chief. After all, she was worried too.

"That means he can't use it," Mark said.

"All right, Mark, get on the phone. Find out if the chief left word downstairs as to where he was going." Mark nodded and head for the phone on the main table.

"Eve, call the chief's van, and try his cell phone. You probably won't get through, but do it anyway."

Eve nodded and went to the phone on the chief's desk. Ed went to a third phone and put out an APB on the chief's vehicle. If Mark and Eve came up with nothing, maybe beat cops might spot the van.

A few minutes later Mark hung up the phone. "No one even knew the chief was out of the building. He didn't leave any word with them."

Eve joined them at the table. "No answer from the van and the cellphone lines are jammed." It was then she realized Ed wasn't even supposed to be in the city. The time it would take for him to fly to San Francisco meant he had flown home before the earthquake hit. "You are supposed to be in New York."

The expression on the sergeant's face changed. It was obvious the subject was not pleasant for him. "Let's just say things didn't work out." They had no idea how much of an understatement that was.

Eve said nothing more on the subject. She could see the pain in her friend's face, and she didn't want to cause him anymore.

The door to the office opened and Dunlap entered. He came down the ramp. The hair stood up on the back of Ed's neck. Something told him whatever reason Dunlap was here was not going to be good news.

The dog trainer nodded his greeting at the three and said, "I hitched a ride on a man on a motorcycle to get here. The city is a mess."

"They usually are after an earthquake," Mark said.

Eve and Ed just stared at Dunlap waiting for him to tell them what the visit was about. He didn't seem to be curious where the chief was, which worried both of them even more.

"Look, I thought you should know what happened this evening. I got a call from the chief to bring Otto to him. I met him at the Tower Building. He wouldn't let me help him. He was forced to go into that building."

The door to the office opened and Duffy walked in with Katherine. They came down the ramp. Duffy walked directly over to Ed. "Sergeant, the chief is in trouble."


	15. Chapter 15

Earthquake in San Francisco

Chapter 15

1

Officer Eve Whitfield and Mark Sanger crowded into Ed's dark Ford Sedan. Ed was standing near the vehicle trying to convince Katherine to stay in the office. She was having no part of it. She was just as worried as the rest of them, and Ed couldn't blame her for wanting to join them. Katherine just didn't realize if she came along, Ed would worry about her safety. If anything happened to her, the chief would have his hide. Right now he just didn't need the distraction. He had to get to the Tower building and find the chief.

Brown didn't know how he would react if he found Frank Hunt had killed his boss. His first instinct would be to end Hunt's miserable life. But, could he actually do it? Yes, Ed was certain he could. He only hoped his sense of duty and right and wrong would take over. He worried his judgement would be clouded where the chief's life was concerned. Right now, he had to get to the Tower and find Robert Ironside.

Robert Ironside had one thing going for him, and that was Otto. That dog would protect him with his life. Ed had never seen a smarter dog anywhere. It was as if Otto could actually read the chief's mind. He seemed to take silent orders as well as any of the humans that worked around Ironside. If fact, his instincts were probably better. Still, Brown was not willing to trust Robert Ironside's life to a dog, no matter how brilliant that dog was. It did give him some comfort to know the dog was with the chief.

"Katherine, I know you are worried about Chief Ironside, but I have to insist you stay here. I promise to call you as soon as the chief is safe."

Ed's promise had no positive effect on her. She was shaking her head before he even finished the sentence. "I am going with you. If you don't let me ride with you, I'll find a way to follow you."

"I can't let you do that. If anything happened to you . . . "

"Nothing is going to happen to me, but if you think I am going to just sit in Robert's office and worry, you are wrong," Katherine said.

"You would have to stay outside the building and worry there," Ed tried to tell her. "At least here, I would know you are safe. Many of the buildings are unsafe and debris is still falling from them. Some of them are collapsing." Ed could tell from the look on her face that had been the wrong thing to say.

"You don't think the building Robert is in could collapse, do you?"

Ed shook his head. "I am sure the building is just fine." If he had been Pinocchio, he was certain his nose would have grown over a couple of inches. He had no way of knowing what shape that building was in. So, how could he possibly make that kind of guaranty to Katherine. From the look on her face, she didn't believe him anyway.

"Ed, it is a very tall building. How can you be sure it could withstand an earthquake?" Katherine asked.

The sergeant knew he couldn't, yet he had to try to ease Katherine's mind anyway. "It was only built within the last five years, Katherine. Believe me, it was built to withstand even the strongest of earthquakes. Now please, go back into the building and wait in Chief Ironside's office."

Stubbornly, Katherine just stood there. "I am going with you. I don't care if I have to stand outside the building. I have to know Robert is all right. Katherine wasn't sure which she was more concerned about, the earthquake or Frank Hunt. All she knew was she would be less worried if she could be there instead of Robert's office, not knowing what was going on.

This was one battle Ed knew he wasn't going to win. No doubt, if he refused to bring Katherine with him, she would find a way to follow them. That could prove to put her in danger from falling debris. Against his better judgement, he knew he was going to give into this very strong-willed woman. Why couldn't the chief choose a woman who was easier to manage?

"All right, get in the car." Brown took her arm and led her over to his vehicle. The passenger door opened. Mark got out and opened the back passenger door as Katherine slipped in beside Eve.

Ed nodded at Dunlap who as parked next to them. He had brought along a couple of dogs to help. Dunlap had assured Ed that they were excellent attack dogs and could track as well as Otto. Ed wasn't sure that could be true, but even if they were half as good as Otto, they would be an asset in their search for the chief. Dunlap got into the van with the dogs. Officer Duffy opened the passenger door and got in Dunlap's vehicle.

Slipping behind the wheel of his Ford, Brown put the key in the ignition and started the engine. He pulled the vehicle into the street. He could tell right then just getting to the Tower was going to be a chore. Reaching under the seat, he pulled out the siren and placed it on top of the Ford. Although, he doubted it would be much help under the circumstances.

Eve looked over at Katherine. She certainly was different from Barbara. She would have been a nervous wreck. Katherine, on the other hand, seemed to be very calm. She showed no outwardly signs that she was worried, yet Eve knew she had to be. Eve conceded to herself that they were all worried. They had no idea what they would find when they arrived at the Tower.

2

Robert Ironside crawled out of the room and headed toward the closest staircase. Elevators were not safe after an earthquake hit. He would have to crawl down 83 flights of stairs. Well, actually it was several floors less. Ironside wasn't sure what floor he was on. And, he would only get down if the stairs weren't destroyed by the earthquake. Before he could do that, he had to find his aunt and Otto. The German Shepherd would protect her, of that he had no doubt. The problem was there was only so much Otto could do. Frank Hunt was armed. He would know the dog was a threat. Hunt would shoot Otto on sight. He wished he had the foresight to at least put a bulletproof vest on the dog. Ironside wanted to not only get his Aunt Victoria out alive, he wanted Otto unharmed as well. He continued to crawl toward the stairs, pushing debris out of his way as he went. When he arrived at the stairs, Ironside discovered the same thing his Aunt had earlier. The earthquake had taken out the stairs. He turned his body around and began crawling down the hall in the opposite direction he started. There had to be another set of stairs on the other side. Safety laws would never allow them only one way out of the building. This would be a lot easier if he had not lost his wheelchair. He could have found a way to get it down the stairs.

Ever since that first time he was confronted with an escalator, Ironside had been determined to learn how to safely get his wheelchair down stairs. At that time, he used his upper body strength to prop himself on the stairs. Unfortunately, once he reached the bottom, he could do nothing but fall flat on his face. The young man they believe had shot him got away. If Ironside had only been able to get his chair down the escalator, the boy might be alive today. Unfortunately, he was murdered by Honor Thompson, the woman who actually shot Robert Ironside.

Along the way, Ironside spotted a utility room that was open. The detective never passed up a chance to check for something that might assist or help protect him. He crawled into the room. Ironside looked up. There were shelves all the way to the top of the utility room. They contained cleaning fluids, paper towels, toilet paper; none of which he could use in self-defense. An item on the fifth shelf caught his eye. A rope could come in handy if there were any problems with his descent to the first floor. Ironside looked around for some way to reach the rope.

Crawling to his left he grabbed a mop. Taking the scrubbing end of the mop in his hand, the detective reached up with the other end. It came up short of reaching the fifth shelf. Ironside pushed himself up, raising his chest as high as he could. At the same time, he attempted to stretch as far as he could, but it still wasn't good enough. He could not reach the rope.

Frustrated, Ironside studied his situation. How was he going to reach the rope? Throwing the mop aside, he grabbed the bottom shelf. Using a considerable amount of his weight, he pulled his body up toward the next shelf. It bowed, but held. Ironside decided to give it the full force of his weight. After all, if it were to give way, he would not have far to fall to the floor, minimizing the chances of getting hurt in the fall.

He continued to pull his crippled body toward the next shelf. It continued to hold. He would have to thank the individual who built and put in the shelves. They were solidly built. Once he had pulled himself even with the shelf, he reached up and grabbed hold of the second one.

One thing the detective had made a priority after he lost the use of his legs was working on his upper body strength. It had paid off, as it helped him defeat attackers who had no idea how strong the detective actually was. And, it was paying off again. Ironside pulled his body up to the third shelf and then the fourth one. Deciding he didn't have to go any higher, Ironside reached up, grabbed the rope on the fifth shelf, but it was stuck. He couldn't pull it down. Holding his body in place with his left hand, he used his right hand to give it a hard yank. When he did, the rope came loose, but along with it came a can of paint. It hit the detective in the forehead, opening a cut over his left eye.

Ironside lost his grip on the shelf and fell to the floor. He hit it with such a thud that it jarred his entire body. Pain shot through his back and head as they hit the floor. He shut his eyes and didn't move; willing the pain away.

After it subsided, he gathered the rope. He spotted a spray bottle on the bottom shelf. Pulling his body back toward the shelf, he reached up and grabbed the bottle. Visually checking everything he could see on the shelves, Ironside spotted a bottle of glass polish. He knew the glass polish would contain hydrofluoric acid. If sprayed in the eyes, it would definitely burn them. Using the rope, he formed a lasso and lobbed it up at the glass polish. The rope encircled the bottle, and Ironside pulled it down to the floor. He then opened the top and poured the liquid into the spray bottle now in his possession. He rounded up the rope into a large circle and put it over his shoulder. Using the sprayer end of the bottle, he hooked it to his back suit pants pocket. Now, he had these plus the fingernail file, and the can of pepper spray. Not exactly the weapons he would choose, but they were what he had available to him.

He looked at the two things he obtained from the utility room. It wasn't much, but it was at least something. Ironside left the room and continued his trek down the hall of the floor. When he reached the stairs, he peered down them. They appeared to be in tack. Listening, Ironside could hear someone coming up the stairs. He crawled behind the door that led into the stairway. Pulling the door after him, he was satisfied he was concealed from Frank Hunt, if it were him.

Then he heard a dog whine. Otto! Ironside immediately called out to his canine companion. "Otto!"

The dog left Victoria Ironside, ran the rest of the way up the stairs and headed straight for the detective. Licking him in the face with his tail wagging back and forth, Ironside looked beyond him to see his aunt come up the stairs. She hurried over to him.

"Oh thank God!" Tears rolled down her face as she reached her nephew. "Hunt said you went out the window to the ground."

"I did, but not to the ground. The flagpole stopped my fall. I was able to get into a window," he explained.

"Your chair?" she asked.

"On the street below, I suspect," answered Ironside. "Now, where's Hunt?"

"I ran into him a couple floors down. He was going to shoot me, but your dog saved my life," she told him.

Ironside reached up and ran his thumb lightly over Victoria's eye. It was swelled almost completely shut. She took hold of his hand. "It's all right, Robert." She pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of the jacket she was wearing and wiped the blood from his face. His aunt looked down at his leg. "You're bleeding."

"The window. When it broke, a large piece of it penetrated my leg. Don't worry, I can't feel it."

"You might not be able to feel it, but it is still bleeding." Victoria removed the scarf from the outfit she was wearing and tied it around her nephew's leg. "We have to get help. That maniac is determined to kill us."

Ironside reached into his pocket and pulled out the can of pepper spray. He handed it to Victoria. "It's not much, but it is better than nothing at all." She nodded and put the spray in her pocket.

"What floor are we on?" asked Ironside.

"The 74th floor," she answered.

"Well, that's better than the 83rd." Ironside looked down the stairs. It dawned on him that Victoria was coming up instead of down. "Why didn't you go down the stairs instead of coming back up here?"

"About two floors down the stairs are out," she replied.

"Damn it!" Ironside growled.

"Watch your language, Robert," Victoria scolded.

"We have to find a way to get out of here. Where's Hunt?"

"About two floors down. At least that is where I left him."

"Victoria, the stairs that were out. Is there a chance we could lower to the next floor by rope?" he asked her.

"Well, I could see the floor below. Yes, it might be possible. Where did you find the rope?"

"In a utility room. Hopefully, there are utility rooms on all the floors. We might need to find more rope."

"But how are you suppose to get around, Robert? "You can't crawl your way to safety."

"I don't have a choice. My chair is 74 floors below us, and probably destroyed. I certainly can't walk down 74 floors," he said.

Victoria's eyes lit up. Ironside noticed the change immediately. "What is it, Victoria?"

"Executive chairs! Aren't most of them on wheels?"

"Yes, but I don't have any way to maneuver one. I can't pull myself along these walls. There is nothing to hang on to."

"Robert, stop being so independent. I can push you."

"What good would that do? We will be going downstairs. It's not as if we would be traveling only in the halls," he pointed out.

"Maybe not, but I know you have been practicing going down stairs with your wheelchair."

Ironside thought for a moment. It might work. Then again, he might go crashing down a floor if the chair slipped even a bit. What difference did it make? If they didn't get out of here, Frank Hunt would find them, and then they would die for sure. "All right, Victoria, we'll give it a try."

She smiled. "You stay here, I'll see if I can find an open office."

"The second one from the end of the hall on the right. That is the one I crashed into," Ironside shouted. Victoria left him and hurried down the hall. "Go with her, Otto." The dog whined as if questioning Ironside's order, but left him and ran after Victoria.

Victoria Ironside arrived at the office her nephew had mentioned. The door was open. She went inside. There was an executive chair behind the desk. She looked at the window, or the spot where the window used to be. It had been smashed inward. Victoria could see the flagpole outside. It had a rather large crack in it. She wondered how the pole ever held up under Robert's weight. He was not a small man after all. She estimated he weighed 230 to 240 pounds. He must have broken the window with his body. It would explain the injury to his leg.

That leg wound of his worried her. It was still bleeding; not heavily, but still bleeding nevertheless. She had to get him out of this building and find some help. He needed medical treatment. She looked down at the floor. There was a large piece of glass covered in blood . . . Robert's blood. Victoria raced over to the desk, went behind it, and checked out the chair. It was on wheels. Just what they needed. Victoria grabbed the chair and wheeled it out of the room and back to where she had left her nephew.

"You found one," Ironside said.

"Obviously," Victoria responded. "Now, how do we get you into it?"

Ironside looked at the railing. He grabbed the chair from Victoria's grasp and pulled it over to the railing. "Let's hope the earthquake didn't loosen the railing. You keep the chair steady, and I'll pull myself into it."

Victoria took hold of the chair as her nephew placed both hands on the railing. He pulled himself upwards. The first try was unsuccessful as he almost fell to the floor, but he was able to raise his body into the chair.

Victoria smiled. "I knew you could do it."

"I still think it makes more sense to just crawl down," the chief said, looking down the stairs.

"And if Hunt shows up, how would you get away from him?"

"I wouldn't and neither would you. Well, we might as well get started," Ironside said. "Only 73 more floors to go."

"I'll go first in case you slip." As Victoria tried to pass the detective, he grabbed her arm. "If I slip, you would go down with me. I'll go first. You stay behind me. By the way, how many floors can we get down before we run into the floor where the stairs are destroyed?"

"Three floors," she revealed.

"That will put us on the 71st floor before we have to reassess our problem. We better get started. Otto, you go ahead of us. Go, boy."

"Why are you sending him first? Shouldn't he follow us down?" Victoria asked.

"No. We know Hunt is below us. Otto can warn us if we are about to run into him. I would prefer to avoid that if we can."

"That makes sense. Well, Robert, I'm ready if you are."

Ironside held on tightly to the railing. He began pulling the chair forward, allowing some wheels to reach the next step. The wheels were swiveling presenting a problem. He had trouble controlling them. They weren't hitting squarely on the stair. If he got out of this mess, he was going to find a reason to arrest the person that invented the swiveling wheels. He went down a couple more stairs with the same problem, almost losing the chair a couple of times.

Their progress was just plain too slow. By the time they got out of the building, San Francisco would be rebuilt and functioning normally. Ironside conceded that was a bit of an exaggeration. Still, they would never get out before Frank Hunt found them, and he didn't want to run into him with no reliable way to defend himself and his aunt. Ironside grabbed the railing and pulled himself out of the executive chair. He allowed it to go tumbling down the stairs.

"Robert!" Victoria screamed.

"It's all right, Victoria. It just wasn't working." Ironside lowered his body until he was sitting on the stair. "I will go down on my tail." He avoided saying his ass as he knew Victoria would scold him for the language.

"You don't have a tail," Victoria said.

Ironside ignored the remark. Still holding the rail, he began lowering his body to the next step. The process was still slow, but faster than trying to use the chair. Now, only if they could avoid Frank Hunt.

3

Patience was not always a virtue as far as Ed was concerned. Every time they tried getting down a street, they were stopped by debris in the way, forcing them to find another route. All he could think of was getting to the chief. God only knew what the earthquake had done to the Tower. And if that wasn't bad enough, the chief was trapped in the building with two men who wanted to kill him. Ed almost forgot about Victoria Ironside. She was also in danger, and Hunt would use her against the chief. Ed had known the chief long enough that he would put her life ahead of his own. That worried him more than anything. Robert Ironside would sacrifice his own life to protect hers.

He turned down another street, but it was blocked by a fire engine putting out a fire in a high rise. Maybe, cities along the San Andres fault line should never be able to build them higher than 4 or 5 floors. As much as the standards for building in earthquake areas had improved, they still were not earthquake proof and never would be.

Brown turned his Ford down another street where he was stopped by a uniformed cop. "You can't go down this street. There are power lines down."

Ed nodded and backed up his vehicle. The same cop headed over to his car. The sergeant stopped and waited for him to reach them. "What is it, Officer?"

He pulled the walkie-talkie from is belt and asked for a path to the Tower. Another police officer gave him instructions and what streets to avoid. "Got that, Sergeant?" the officer asked.

"I got it, and thanks," Ed said.

"Sergeant. Find the chief and bring him out alive. Be careful, I understand Frank Hunt and Roland Hubbard are in that building with the intent to kill him."

Ed couldn't say anything. He just nodded and drove away from the officer. He followed the directions the police officer had given them. Within a few minutes, they reached their destination. Everyone got out of the car. When another police officer tried to turn them away, Lieutenant Carl Reese hurried over to him. "It's all right. These people work for Chief Ironside."

Katherine's heart sank when she spotted the mangled wheelchair she recognized to be Robert's. She took off on a dead run toward the chair. There was a man lying on the ground covered with a tarp. "Oh my God, no!" she cried.

Carl Reese grabbed her around the waist. "Easy, Katherine. It's not the chief. Someone shot and killed one of our officers. We have every reason to believe the chief is alive."

Ed, Eve and Mark joined them. "That's the chief's chair," Eve said.

Carl pointed up toward the top of the building. "There appears to be a broken window on the top floor. That is probably the window the chair went out. Down several floors where the flagpole is, there is another broken window. It looks like the chief must have been able to stop his fall with that pole. He likely broke that window to get back in."

"What about Hunt and Hubbard?" Mark asked.

"Don't know, but I am guessing only one of them are in the building. This officer," he said, pointing at the dead man on the ground, "likely tried to stop one or the other and was shot for his trouble."

"What about the stability of the building, Carl" Ed asked.

"It is being checked now by the fire department. As soon as they give us the go ahead, we're going in."

"We're going in now," Mark said as he tried pushing his way past Carl.

Reese grabbed the young man. "No, we're waiting until we can be sure the building is not going to collapse, and then we are going in."

"The chief is up there with two maniacs who are trying to kill him," Mark shouted.

"Don't you think I know that? We won't save the chief if the building falls and the rest of us will get killed in the process. We wait. Is that clear?" Carl's tone made it clear he would stop any of them who tried.

They had arrived, but there was nothing they could do but wait.


	16. Chapter 16

Earthquake in San Francisco

Chapter 16

1

Frank Hunt's eyes opened slowly. It took him a second or two to clear his head. What had happened? Then it came back to him. That damned dog saved the old lady's life. He couldn't believe it. Why in the hell were people with the name of Ironside so hard to kill? She may have escaped him for the moment, but he would catch up to the bitch and the cripple. When he did, he was going to put a bullet it each of their heads. No one made a fool out of Frank Hunt.

Suddenly, he reached to see if his weapon was still there. The gun was on the floor a few feet to his right. The dumb broad didn't even pick it up. It was a good thing that it was Ironside's aunt and not Ironside himself. He wouldn't have made such a stupid mistake. He would have picked the gun up for sure.

His head was spinning. A headache pounded at his temples. Hunt wondered where the dog had come from. Roland said nothing about Ironside entering the building with a dog. Yet, he must have. The mutt was obviously loyal to Ironside. The next time he saw the animal, he was going to put a bullet in its head as well. Damn it! This was supposed to be easy. The earthquake had changed everything. Not quite everything. It didn't change his desire to kill Ironside and his aunt. When he caught up with them, he would kill the old lady first. Ironside would know he had failed to protect her. Then he would kill the crippled detective.

Hunt looked down the staircase, or what used to be the staircase. It no longer existed. The earthquake had taken it out. The old lady must've gone back up or headed for the other exit. Hunt decided she would not have gone up. No doubt, she would head for the other exit to go down toward the street. Going up would simply be insane. Then again, the old lady did not take his gun when she left him there in the hall. That was the definition of insane.

He hurried down the hall toward the other staircase. Stopping for a moment in front of the elevator, he wondered if she was stupid enough to try to use it to go down. Everyone knew you avoided elevators after an earthquake. Hunt reached out and pressed the button to recall the elevator to his current floor. He waited, but nothing happened. The building must have a safe guard to shut down the elevators in case of an earthquake. That left only one avenue of escape, the stairs.

Suddenly, the building began to rumble. Hunt realized immediately that it was not another earthquake. The building sustained severe damage in the quake. What did that mean, he wondered? Hunt worried the building could be unstable enough to collapse. If that were the case, he had to get out before it happened. He ran for the stairs. Stopping just short of them, Hunt refocused. What did he care if it collapsed? He wouldn't get away from San Francisco anyway. Ironside's people, no doubt by now, had discovered where their boss was. They would be out on the sidewalk right now. The only thing preventing them from coming up after the cripple cop was the condition of the building. They likely were prohibited by the authorities from entering the building.

To hell with getting out! Hunt wanted Ironside. If he couldn't find him, he would prevent him from getting out of the building. At least Hunt would have the satisfaction of knowing he took Ironside with him when the building came down. Just then, the building began to rumble again. A portion of the ceiling fell in a few feet behind him. He ran for the stairs. When he arrived, he realized he couldn't go down that way either. The stairway had collapsed in the quake. Well, if he was going to die in this building, so were Ironside and his aunt. Maybe he didn't have to do anything but wait until the building went down, but that wouldn't give him the satisfaction of ending Ironside's life himself.

Hunt couldn't go down, but then neither could the damned cripple. Suddenly, he began to grin. Ironside had nowhere to go but up. He couldn't get away from him. He had him! It was only a matter of finding him, and find him he would. He turned back and headed up the stairs.

2

Victoria followed her nephew down the stairway. She noticed the rope that was over his shoulder. She wondered if he really was going to lower them down a flight of stairs with that rope. What would they do even if he was successful in doing so? They would probably be trapped on the next floor anyway with nowhere to go. She didn't understand his reasoning. They certainly couldn't depend on finding more rope on each floor. They would only be able to use the rope he had one time only. It would be tied to the railing on this floor, with no way for them to remove it once they were lowered to the next floor.

"Robert, I don't see how this is going to work. We don't have an endless supply of rope. Even if the stairway on the next floor is still there, it doesn't mean it is safe to use. We should be trying to find a way to call out."

"Call out how?" Ironside said. "The phones are shut off."

Victoria's eyes lit up. "My cellphone! It was in the pocket of my blazer. Hunt took it away from me and threw it in the waste basket. We could go up and get it. Then we could call out."

Ironside shook his head. "Even if we could find it, the chances of it working are poor. Cell towers all over the city will be affected by the earthquake. I doubt we could reach anyone with a cellphone."

"Isn't it worth a try?" she asked.

"Victoria, we have to get out of this building. That last rumbling tells me this building was badly damaged by the earthquake. I am concerned it is going to come down on top of us. Going up isn't going to do us any good. We have to go down," Ironside said.

"What about your staff? They should've sent help by now."

Ironside shook his head. They don't even know I'm here. Hunt made it clear I wasn't to tell them; that I was to come here alone."

"And you did that?" Victoria said incredulously.

"I had no choice. I couldn't risk your life."

Victoria smiled at her nephew. He always put others ahead of his own safety. This time she wished he hadn't. "All right, she conceded. "We'll go down."

"Not before, we find out if there is any more rope on this floor. We need to find the utility room. If the layout of each floor is the same, it will be down the hall on the right. Let's go."

Victoria helped Ironside into the executive chair and began pushing him down the hall. "Hold it," Ironside said as he caught a utility sign out of the corner of his eye."

She looked to the left and spotted what Robert already had. Both of them turned and went over to the door. Ironside tried the knob. Thankfully, the door wasn't locked. Opening the door, he discovered the room was huge. It was far larger than the previous utility room he'd been in. Victoria pushed him into the room. Otto followed them in.

Ironside looked at the shelves hoping to find something more than what he had to protect Victoria and himself. Unfortunately, the shelves were lined with the same things he found in the other utility room. Looking at the other side, there were boxes stacked across the wall. "Victoria, push me over to those boxes."

Victoria did as he requested. While Ironside was going through the boxes, she wandered over to the window. She looked out to see quite a bit of debris in the street below. Then she spotted someone that brought a smile to her face. "Robert, I thought you said your staff didn't know where you were."

He looked up from the boxes. "That's right."

"Well apparently they were able to figure it out. Look!"

Using whatever was in his path, Ironside pulled the executive chair over to the window. Sure enough, despite the floor they were on, he could spot Ed, Eve, and Mark below. "Dunlap," Ironside said.

"What? Who's Dunlap?"

"The man who owns the kennel where Otto is kept. He brought him to me. He knew where I was. He must have called my office." Ironside raised an eyebrow. That was Ed down there, he was sure of it. But, what was he doing in San Francisco. He was supposed to be on vacation in New York with the actress. Ironside smiled. He just couldn't stay away. He must have flown home early. That didn't bode well for his romance with Vivian . . . whatever her last name was. Well, Ironside was glad he did. Their chances of getting out of the building just increased.

Suddenly, the building began to shake again. "It's another earthquake!" Victoria shouted.

Ironside was still looking out the window. The building across the street was not swaying or moving. The people in the street gave no indication it was another quake. Then the floor beneath them dropped a foot. Victoria fell to the floor. Ironside had trouble controlling the executive chair as it was on wheels. He nearly fell out of it. "That's not an earthquake," Ironside corrected his aunt. "That's the building. It is beginning to collapse. We don't have time for me to crawl down all these floors."

"Robert, if you are suggesting I leave you behind, it is out of the question. I will not leave you," Victoria said in a commanding voice.

"No, I am not suggesting that. This building is going to collapse. Our only chance is to go up, not down," he said.

"Up? You said we had to go down. How is going up going to help? Neither of us can fly," Victoria said.

"No, but a helicopter can." Ironside pulled the chair over to the shelf. "We have to find something to write with. We have to get a message to Ed down there on the street."

"But how? How can we possibly get a message to Ed from up here?"

"We are going to find a way," Ironside said. "Start looking for something to write with."

Victoria began searching the shelves for something they could use. Ironside checked the lower shelves as both searched desperately for something to help to get a message down below.

"Robert, I can't find anything," Victoria said with a touch a panic.

Ironside spotted a box of tacks on the bottom shelf. He reached down and picked them up. "Victoria, I need to get out of this chair."

"Why?"

"Because this chair is going to serve as a carrier pigeon. Help me to the floor into a sitting position."

Victoria guided her nephew to the floor as she could not do much else since she was unable to support his weight. Once Ironside was sitting on the floor, he pulled the executive chair toward him. The detective tipped it over. Opening the box, he pulled out a handful of tacks and began pressing them into the seat of the chair. When he finished, he turned to Victoria. "We are going to throw this chair through that window.

Victoria smiled. "That was very clever, Robert."

"Let's hope it works because it is our only chance of getting out of here alive." He crawled over to where the boxes were. "Help me move these boxes over to the window."

Between the two, they moved several boxes to the window a couple feet away. Ironside used his upper body strength to pull himself onto the boxes. "All right, wheel that chair over here."

Victoria did as he instructed. "Now what?"

"We are going to throw it through the window," he replied.

"Robert, you're too close. You could be cut by falling glass!"

"A chance we are going to have to take. Now, when we throw it through the window, I want you to move back immediately. Understand?" She nodded her head in recognition she did.

Ironside grabbed the chair. Victoria helped him lift it. Using all his strength, and with the help of Victoria, they threw it toward the window. It shattered and the chair tumbled out and began a free-fall to the ground. He watched it for a moment and then turned to his aunt. "All right, let's get to the roof."

3

Mark paced back and forth as Ed and Eve watched him. They knew it wasn't going to be long before the young man exploded. Ed decided to try to head him off. He headed over to where Mark was pacing. Eve noticed and joined the two of them.

"How long does it take to get permission to go into the building? We have to get the chief out of there," Mark complained.

Lieutenant Reece walked over to them. Ed put a hand on Mark's wrist to indicate he would handle it. "Carl, we have to get the chief out of there." He didn't like the grave look on Carl's face. "What is it, Carl?"

"They won't give us the go ahead to go in. They said the structure of the building has been severely damaged. It is going to collapse, Ed. They are going to clear the area."

"Like hell they are," Mark shouted.

"Easy, Mark. I have no intention of following that order. We are going in after him."

"Look out!" someone shouted.

Instinctively, Mark, Ed, Eve, and Carl looked up to see an object falling to the ground. They scrambled to get out of the way. The chair hit the ground and broke apart.

"That was close," Ed said. "Now what's your plan, Carl?"

Eve notice something shiny on the seat that was lying on the ground a few feet away from the rest of the broken chair. She left the group and walked over to it. Excitedly, she called out, "Ed, Carl, over here."

They hurried over to her as Mark followed. "What is it?" Carl asked.

Eve pointed at the seat of the chair. "Look!"

They looked down at the chair. The tacks the chief had put in the chair spelled out a message.

WE ARE OKAY NEED HELP

LAND CHOPPER ON ROOF

WILL MEET YOU THERE

HURRY

Before Carl could give the order, Ed grabbed the phone from an emergency worker. "Patch me into a police chopper." He waited a minute and then said with urgency to the police officer on the other side. "This is Sergeant Ed Brown. Get a chopper over to the Tower immediately, by order of Chief Ironside. We are to pick him up on the roof." After being assured one was on the way, Ed hung up. He turned to look at his friends.

"It's a long-shot, Ed. The building could come down at any time," Carl said.

"Yeah, I know, but at least it's a shot."

Katherine joined them when she sensed something was going on. She immediately noticed the message Robert had put into the chair seat with tacks.

Eve put an arm around her. "We're going to get him out of there."

Katherine smile and nodded.

4

Ironside crawled the length of the hall back to the stairs. "Victoria, I want you to take Otto and go up to the roof. I'll be along as soon as I can."

Victoria was shaking her head. "No, Robert, I won't leave you."

"Listen to me. I may not be able to crawl up all these stairs before this building gives way. You can make it out of here. Take Otto and get out."

"I told you no. I am not leaving you, so I suggest we get started. We get out of here together or we die here together. I have lived a long life, Robert. You still have years ahead of you. I am going to help you get out."

The chief knew nothing he said would change her mind, so he started up the stairs. Victoria grabbed him by the shoulder. Otto sunk his teeth in his suit coat jacket and both pulled him forward as he dragged himself up step by step. They continue going up flight by flight heading for the roof.

5

Hunt checked each floor from one end to the other to make sure Ironside and the old lady weren't hiding somewhere. He was determined they would not get away from him. He was going to kill that son-of-a-bitch. This is what he had dreamed of all the years he rotted in that prison. Now it was time for Ironside to pay for that. He couldn't wait to put a bullet in that cripple's head. It was only too bad the people of this stinking city would never know it was he who had killed their great protector. He had no illusions. They were going to be buried in the rubble of the building when it collapsed to the ground.

He went up the next flight of stairs and checked it room by room. All of the doors with the exception of each floor's utility room were locked. There wasn't anywhere Ironside could hide. Sooner or later Hunt knew he would have him. After all, where was he going to go? He could only go as high as the roof. Then an idea hit him. After he put a bullet in his head, he would throw him off the side of the building. There still wouldn't be much chance of him not being buried by the rubble, but even if there was any chance of San Francisco finding their hero with a bullet in his head, he had to take it. That was the plan, and he was going to see to it that he completed it before he died in this building.

He finished searching the floor and went to the next and then the next. Hunt was getting close to the same floor where he had started the whole thing. He couldn't figure out why he hadn't run into Ironside and his aunt. Where the hell was the damned cripple anyway? It had taken him a long time to check each floor on the way up. Unfortunately, he had given the cripple plenty of time to crawl up the stairs. But, could he actually crawl up that many floors of stairs pulling his useless body? Hunt didn't see how he could do it. He would have to tire out after a floor or two. Maybe he hadn't fallen more than a couple floors. Yes, that had to be it. Damn! Hunt couldn't remember what floor he found the old lady on. She had to be close to where Ironside had come back into the building. That crippled detective was hard to kill. He had more lives than a cat.

When he reached the floor where he held Victoria Ironside, he again checked every room. All the doors were locked. That left only the room where this all began. Holding the gun in his right hand, he burst into the room. It was empty. Ironside and his aunt were nowhere to be seen. They went to the roof! Perfect! His plan of throwing Ironside off the building was right on track. Maybe he would throw the old lady off first right in front of Ironside. He liked that idea.

Hunt headed for the door which would lead to the roof. He opened it and climbed the stairs. At the top was another door. It was wide open. He grinned. They had reached their final destination, that is unless he considered falling 84 floors to be splattered all over the pavement. He stepped out onto the roof. Ironside was lying on the cement; the old lady and the dog standing beside him.

"Going somewhere, folks?" he said with a laugh. "This time you are not going to get away from me. I waited a long time for this moment." He walked toward Ironside and Victoria. Otto put his head down and growled; the hair on his back was standing straight up.

"Otto,easy," Ironside whispered to the dog. If Otto attacked right now, he would be shot. Ironside would wait to give him the command when there was a better chance of success.

"Hunt, it's over. I have a chopper coming in to pick us up. It's your only chance of survival. Now give me the gun," Ironside said.

Frank Hunt roared with laughter. "You don't get it do you? None of us are getting off this building. It is going to collapse anytime. We are all going to die up here, or should I say on the way down. But you, Ironside, are going to be dead before that. I am going to kill you now."

"Give me the gun. You will spend the rest of your life in prison, but at least you will be alive," Ironside said with an outstretched hand.

"You call that living. I would rather be dead than go back there." He continued to move closer to the detective and his aunt. "And I would like to see you dead."

Otto began growling again. Ironside put his hand on the dog. He knew the gun Hunt had only had six rounds. When he thought about it, the chief was pretty sure he had fired the entire round using them to gain entrance to locked rooms. He was taking a chance; he knew that. If he was wrong, one of the three of them was going to die right now, and chances were it was going to be him. Yet, if he ordered the dog to attack, he would likely be shot and killed. He wouldn't do that. Ironside trusted his instincts, and they told them Hunt was holding an empty gun.

"It's your time, Ironside. I'll see you in hell." Hunt pointed the gun at Ironside and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened but the sound of a click. The detective had been right. The gun was empty.

"Otto!" Before he even got out the rest of the command; the German Shepherd sprang into the air and clamped his jaw down on Hunt's gun arm.

Frank Hunt screamed in pain, but it didn't slow him down. Dragging the dog with him, he reached down and began pulling Ironside toward the edge of the building. The chief attempted to fight him off, but Hunt was behind him and pulling him by his collar. Hunt strained under the weight of the detective. Still, he was making progress. Victoria began pounding on Hunt's back. He let go of Ironside with the arm the Shepherd wasn't attached to, slugged Victoria who went flying backwards. Otto instinctively let go of Hunt's arm and went for his throat. Ironside could see the enraged and insane look in the ex-con's eyes. Hunt doubled his fist and landed a blow directly on the dog's head. Otto went down, knocked unconscious.

A loud rumble sounded and the roof dropped enough to raise all of them slightly in the air. Ironside knew they were running out of time. When he saw Victoria returning to try to help him, he shouted, "No Victoria! Stay back!" She stopped at the sound of his voice.

Hunt dragged Ironside to the edge of the building. The detective knew if he didn't do something soon, Hunt was going to succeed in pushing him over the edge. The building rumbled and dropped more. This time it was a substantial drop. Hunt lost his grip on Ironside. That was all it took. The detective reached back and grabbed Hunt's ankle. With the considerable upper body strength he developed because of his disability, he lifted Hunt's leg off the cement and shoved with all his might. Frank Hunt screamed and fell backwards off the building.

Victoria came to his side. "Robert, are you all right?"

Breathing hard, Ironside assured her he was. He started backing away from the edge. Another rumble and the roof again dropped down further. "Where the hell is that chopper?" The building was going to collapse, and sooner rather than later.

He no more got the words out, and the police helicopter appeared around the side of the building, but didn't land on the roof. It hovered a few feet above it. Ed Brown and Mark Sanger jumped out. Mark ran to Victoria and rushed her to the chopper as Ed hurried over to Ironside. Once Mark got Victoria into the chopper, he ran at top speed over to Ed and the chief. The two of them dragged their boss over to the helicopter, and with difficulty hoisted him inside.

The roof dropped several more feet. Ed and Mark jumped into the chopper. Ironside realized one of them was not aboard. "Ed, Otto!" Again, the roof dropped.

"I'm sorry, Chief, we can't go after him." It was one of the hardest decision Ed had ever made, but he couldn't chance the building collapsing while one of them went after the German Shepherd. The chopper lifted a little higher in the air and began to move away.

"Go back! Otto!" Ironside yelled.

Ed closed his eyes. He only wished he could close his ears. He knew how much his boss loved that dog.

Otto began to stir. He stood up just as the roof dropped again. The dog fell down but got up again. Ironside saw that he was on his feet. He turned to the pilot. "Turn this chopper so the opening is toward the building."

"Sir, we have to get out of here. That building is collapsing."

"That's an order, mister, or do you want to look for another line of work?" The pilot shook his head, but brought the chopper around.

Ironside waited until it was in position. There would be only one chance. If Otto didn't make the jump just right he would fall to his death. But then he was going to die if he didn't try. "Otto, jump!"

The Shepherd took off on a dead run. When he reached the end of the building, he leaped into air toward the hovering chopper. His front legs hit the inside of the helicopter. Ironside and Ed grabbed the dog and pulled him the rest of the way inside.

"Get us the flaming hell out of here!" Ironside shouted. Without hesitation, the pilot flew up and away from the building. As they moved away, they heard what sounded like a bomb going off. Everyone looked out the chopper windows. The Tower was no more. It collapsed in a huge cloud of dust as it went down.

Ironside looked at Otto who was panting and wagging his tail. He had a rather large bump on his head where Hunt hit him. The detective ruffled his neck. The Shepherd responded by licking him in the face.

Ed had a hard time looking at his boss. "Look, Chief . . ."

"Forget it, Ed. I understand. You did what you had to do," Ironside said softly. "By the way, did I thank you boys for saving our lives?"

Ed smiled. Mark had a big grin on his face. "No, in fact you didn't," Mark said.

"Well, I thank you, Victoria thanks you, and Otto thanks you," Ironside said with a big grin, his dimples on full display.

"Robert, that is Aunt Victoria," his aunt scolded. "Your mother taught you to be more respectful."

Ed grinned at the sound of Victoria scolding his boss. He turned to the pilot. "Saint Mary's Hospital."

"Saint Mary's? What for?" Ironside snarled.

"That leg," Ed said. "It needs medical attention. Don't argue, Chief, you're going." He turned back to the pilot. "Call ahead to Lieutenant Reese. Tell him we have the chief and he's okay. He and Eve can bring Katherine to the hospital."

Ironside looked at his subordinates . . . his friends . . . his family. They would never know how much they meant to him. He just wasn't capable of telling them. Somehow, he hoped they knew. "That was a close call," he said quietly.

"Yeah," Mark said.

"Too close," Ed added.

6

It was close to dawn by the time they all arrived back at Ironside's office. Sister Agatha had loaned Ironside a wheelchair to use to get home. Eve opened the office door, and Mark wheeled Ironside inside. Ed allowed Katherine to enter in front of him before he entered the office. Otto bounded in after them. Everyone headed for the main table and sat down except Mark.

"Coffee anyone?" Sanger asked.

Ironside looked over at him and said, "Now, what do you think?"

Mark nodded. "Coffee." He went into the kitchen to put on a pot.

"I think your Aunt Victoria was still shaking when we dropped her at home," Eve said.

"That's not surprising considering what she was put through," Ironside said. "She's a tough cookie. She'll be all right."

"You mean what we were all put through," Katherine said.

"Chief, you should have informed us where you were going," Ed scolded.

"I couldn't, Ed. He threatened to kill Victoria. I had to do it his way. Besides, Dunlap told you where I was, didn't he? I assume that is how you knew where to find me."

"He did, and Duffy warned us something was up as well," Mark said, placing coffee cups and a pot of coffee on the table. He poured Ironside a cup of the brew and then allowed everyone to pour their own from the pot.

Eve sighed. "It is sad what makes some people turn into warped monsters. Hunt died because of his hatred for you. He could have turned his life around if not for that."

"Frank Hunt should never have been released from prison in the first place," Ironside said. "Some prisoners just can't be rehabilitated. Hunt was one of them."

"Oh, before I forget," Ed said. "The commissioner called the hospital to make sure you and Victoria were all right. He said the warden called and was very upset by what happened. He promised to listen to you in the future."

"I don't blame him," Ironside said. "Frank Hunt fooled a lot of people; the entire parole board to be exact."

"There is a lot of damage around the city," Katherine said. "It is going to take a while to bring this city back to normal."

Everyone was quiet for a moment before Ironside said, "We had damage to a lot of buildings, but only lost 3. It is hard to believe the Tower went down so easily. So much for earthquake proof buildings."

"Chief, what about Roland Hubbard? Do you think he was in the building when it went down?" Eve asked.

"No, I don't. We have a dead officer, probably killed when Hubbard left the building. He was on the ground floor. I have no doubt he beat it out of there after the quake hit. Something tells me we have not seen the last of Roland Hubbard. He was very tight with Frank Hunt."

Ironside had no idea how right he was.

The End

Thank you for your continued support. I have had a lot of request for another Ironside/Perry Mason crossover, and I am happy to report another one is in the works. Thanks again, and I hope you enjoyed this Ironside adventure.


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